


Double A-side

by oviparous



Series: Ojisan Idol [4]
Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Idols, Couples figuring things out, Explicit Sexual Content, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Romance, Self-Discovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-29 23:31:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12095826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oviparous/pseuds/oviparous
Summary: There is a difference between being in the entertainment business and writing about it, but Sho decides to tackle both. He also decides to fall in love with Nino.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm doing a solo story for every Akatsuki member, and I'd initially wanted to post this last, but it's Arashi's anniversary and I thought this was pretty fitting. The members' stories are independent of each other anyway, though you can see hints of Jun's and Aiba's storyline in here, hehe.
> 
> Happy 18th birthday Arashi. I love you guys so much.

She looks a little too excited, Sho thinks, as Kitagawa—no, wait, that’s her maiden name, she’s ‘Naito' now—leads a man he vaguely recognises into the office, and Sho notes the receptionist’s over-exuberant smile.

She’s leaving for her honeymoon tonight. Maybe that’s it.

“Naito-san,” Sho greets with a nod as they pass his table, and even though she grins even wider at the address (Sho thinks it’s adorable, really—he’s always liked her) she holds up her hands and says:

“I’m keeping ‘Kitagawa’ at the workplace.”

“Ah.” Sho smiles.

He gives a small bow to the guest, and the man bows back before following Kitagawa into the conference room, where their editor-in-chief is waiting. Shortly after, Kitagawa exits the room, gives Sho this knowing, cryptic look, and enters the pantry.

Sho can’t help it. He peers past the glass walls of the conference room, sees Koike averting her eyes. Sho swiftly gets out of his chair, arms himself with his Keio University mug and makes a beeline for the pantry, where Kitagawa is preparing coffee. Sho sidles up to her, looking through some teabags, pretending to concoct a drink of his own.

“You know something.” Sho speaks through his teeth. “What is it?”

Kitagawa looks up from the cups, gives him the same maddening, obfuscating smile, and pats the sleeve of his suit. “The Chief needed a second opinion about your looks, so she asked me. I think it’s because I’m the only other woman in this office, but still. It’s a huge compliment, coming from us.”

She spins on her heel to fetch a tray from a cupboard. Sho follows her. “Kitagawa-san, you’ve just made it sound like Chief has a crush on me.”

Kitagawa just laughs and places saucers on the tray, arranges the cups and sets the spoons. “Just say yes, okay?”

Sho frowns at Kitagawa’s sashaying exit and sighs before selecting a sachet of Her Majesty’s Blend from the tea tin.

He gets back to his desk and sets down the steaming mug just as Koike pokes her head past the doors of the conference room.

“Sakurai-kun. Would you please join us?”

In the conference room, Sho is formally introduced to the stranger.

“Good afternoon. I’m Kato Shigeaki, Associate Editor at Enta Japan.”

Sho suddenly realises where he’s seen him before. In the lift. The cafeteria. Staff seminars. _Enta Japan_ , of course. Sho wonders what someone from the parent publication is doing at their door.

“I’m sure you’ve heard of the Under-Forty Male Idol Contest?”

Sho nods. “The Joshima & Associates one, right?” (Everyone’s heard of it. It’s all over the news.)

“That’s the one. The winners are to debut in an idol unit, and Enta Japan has received exclusive rights to cover the month-long process via an investigative piece.” Kato offers Sho a smile. “We’re hoping you can write it.”

Sho doesn’t understand. This is Enta-Biz. They don’t write the same type of stories, unless Joshima & Associates is planning to coincide an IPO with the debut, then maybe they’ll have an angle to work with.

Sho stares at Kato for several seconds. He then turns to Koike.

“Am I being transferred, Chief?”

“No.” Koike clasps her hands, looking pensive. Sho assumes she’s arranging her thoughts. He waits.

“It’s not just an investigative piece, Sakurai-san. It’s an experiential piece,” says Koike, pausing to let this sink in.

 _Experiential._ Sho frowns. “So what you’re saying is, the journalist is actually going to try to be an idol?”

“Yes.”

“Is this even legal?” asks Sho.

“It’s not illegal,” Kato was the one to answer, “furthermore, Joshima & Associates has green-lighted the proposal.”

Sho raises his eyebrows. He has no interest in being an idol, much less part of a project that is currently, to use its most brutal label, the laughingstock of the music industry—but writing about it is another story, quite literally. He’s never analysed the business from the inside before.

“The journalist can’t reveal to anyone why he’s actually there.” There is warning in Koike’s voice.

Fine. Sho saw that coming. It doesn’t sound too complicated. He’s had his fair share of masquerading as someone else for the sake of gathering information.

Kato slides a folder across to Sho. “These are the terms that have been agreed upon by Joshima & Associates and Enta Japan.”

Sho picks up the folder and skims through it as Kato goes on speaking.

“In sum, the article aims to accurately depict the unique experience of debuting as a male idol in his late thirties from the perspective of the artiste, augmented with accounts that Joshima & Associates executives have agreed to provide. The journalist is expected to interact with the successful candidates themselves, and Enta Japan hopes to publish exclusive stories examining their motivations and attitudes towards participating in the project.”

Sho knows this basically means: _Forget ethics and be our bitch._

“I hope this isn’t inappropriate to ask, but—why me?” asks Sho, closing the file.

Kato answers:

“Joshima & Associates has been very specific about the journalist. They want someone who actually looks the part, is unmarried, and over the age of thirty-five. However, because this is a huge story that will impact the acceptance of our digital migration to Enta-Online, we need someone with experience. A quality writer. Most of the more… _weathered_ writers at Enta Japan do not meet the requirements of Joshima  & Associates, so we decided to approach you.”

Sho knows he’s blushing, he can feel it in his cheeks. They’re basically telling him (a) he’s hot and (b) he’s exceptional at his job.

Hello, Inflated Ego.

“Enta-Biz has very kindly and generously agreed to loan you to us should you be on board.” Kato turns to Koike and gives her a smile and a nod.

He looks back to Sho. “What say you, Sakurai-san?”

Sho wants to say yes (it can’t be _that_ hard to learn how to be an idol for a month), but he also feels he should talk to Koike about it first.

“Could I get back to you by the end of the day?”

Kato agrees and cordially takes his leave. Koike and Sho show him to the door together.

Sho turns to Koike the moment Kato is out of sight.

“Chief, what’s in it for us?”

Koike looks relieved that Sho has gone straight to the point.

“When we go digital, Enta-Biz is just going to be _The Business Section_ ,” Koike makes a face which Sho mirrors, commiserating, “and we’re going to have to compete with Yahoo, Line and NTT for a share of the market. We’ll have to buy keywords to drive traffic to our page, and Enta Japan is offering to help shoulder our ad expenses for the first year, should we assist them with this story.”

“How much are we talking about?”

Koike throws a glance over her shoulder. Behind the reception desk Kitagawa is fastidiously pretending not to eavesdrop.

Koike pulls Sho into the corner and bends forward before beckoning for Sho to follow suit. He crouches into the huddle.

Koike silently communicates the numbers with several hand gestures, and meets Sho’s eyes.

Sho tries to keep his voice steady. “Wow. That’s my price tag?”

Koike nods. “That’s your price tag.”

Sho breathes, considers what he has to lose.

There is nothing.

“I’ll do it.”

Koike’s eyes widen. “Are you sure? You’d have to prance around and pretend to be someone you’re not. And I’ve seen you at work parties, Sakurai-kun.”

“What do you mean, Chief?” Sho feels affronted. “I’m fun at parties.”

“You _never_ use the karaoke machine.”

“That’s not important, is it? It’s not like all idols can actually sing; many just get by, and I think I can get by. This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance. Who actually gets to _live_ the scoop? It’s a reporter’s wet dream. And you’ve edited my work, you know I’m better at writing features than analysis. Let me do it, Chief.”

There is a pause, then a change in Koike’s gaze; it’s turned resolute. “We’ll go over the terms once more in my office. Follow me.”

They straighten and turn around to enter the office, and Sho catches Kitagawa trying to pass off a fist-pump as an arm stretch.

“Slick,” comments Sho, but the expression Kitagawa is wearing is victorious, because he did say yes.

***

He’s in a moving vehicle, and there’s laughter. Sho cracks open an eyelid, remembers where he is. They’re on the way to the Octagon concert, it’s nap time and he’s sprawled ungraciously across three seats.

God, his arm is numb.

Shifting into a more comfortable position, he spies Nino and Ohno through a crack between the upholstery, and realises the laughter is coming from Nino. The two are unconventionally close, Nino’s face hidden in Ohno’s shoulder, and Ohno leans forward to say something in Nino’s ear before he grabs Nino’s hand and puts it on his ass.

_Whoa._

Nino covers his mouth, biting down on his laugh as he sweeps his gaze across the van, checking if he’s woken anyone up.

Sho quickly closes his eyes again. He wasn’t intruding, not exactly. They’re cute together, he decides, as he drifts off to sleep once again.

***

Because of the meeting with the executives where he (perhaps very stupidly) promised to commit to being a fake idol, Sho enters the studio 15 minutes later than the others.

Sho wonders if he should say something; make up some excuse about why he’d been in the boardroom, perhaps; when Aiba passes him by and winks, saying:

“I see the bosses had a meeting with our elite member, huh?”

This is the furthest from the truth anyone could get, but all Sho can do is shake his head and smile. “Just something about the contract,” he says, and it’s not a complete lie.

He greets the camera crew, who smile and nod. They’re filming Nino, who’s squatting in the corner, fingers curled around his cheek, chin in his palm, talking about what he hopes to accomplish today, the third day of boot camp.

Rehearsal isn’t going to start until 10, and they’re expected to finish their warmups by then. Jun and Aiba are helping each other stretch while Ohno is plugged into his music player, trying to remember the words to the songs they have to record later this week, and Sho realises he loves Ohno’s voice.

There’s this curious angst brewing inside of Sho as he listens to Ohno messing up a line and rewinding the track before starting again. It’s a privilege, witnessing this process, seeing how hard they all work, and it’s lovely, and that’s the problem: to be enchanted by the beauty of something that he knows he’ll lose by the end of the month, and having to deal with the grief prematurely.

Ohno walks by Nino, who’s just finished his interview. Nino reaches out to pull on Ohno’s elbow almost absentmindedly, and Ohno just changes direction without missing a beat, falling into step with Nino. Together they practice the moves in front of the mirror as Ohno sings.

Sho watches.

Behind him, Aiba says quietly:

“Sometimes it’s like they’re in their own world, huh?”

“Yeah,” Jun agrees.

Sho leans back to look at the other four in the mirror.

He feels like he’s in his own world, too.

***

He thought he’d be fine, pretending to be someone he’s not, but he realises his naivety—he’d expected his journalist self to prevail, to assert itself as his one true calling, but all it’s done so far is to disappear and play foil to the Sakurai Sho who turns out to be quite brilliant at hosting live shows. God, he can’t believe it. It’s like he’s assailed by his talents every day.

Sho is aware of how pompous that sounds and wants to beat himself up.

“You must have had experience!” exclaims their coach, Ueda-sensei, at the end of the presenter workshop. “Have you been trained before?”

“Sort of,” answers Sho vaguely, though he’s thrilled at the praise. He doesn’t exactly know why he has a knack for it, but he guesses it’s because of his experience in the debate squad and having to deliver impromptu speeches (in English, no less) about politics and the economy, and the countless story pitches he’s had to make for editors throughout his career. It’s quite different from hosting variety, but Sho’s good with words; he knows which ones to choose.

Aiba is wiping his eyes from laughing too hard. “You ask Sakurai Sho what dish he cooks best and he goes—”

“Barley tea,” the other four chorus, and they crack up before Ohno brings up the bit about Sho’s painful gums, and they lose it again.

Sho grins. He’s glad they like his jokes so much that they’re repeating them even after his turn has ended.

“With those presentation skills, you really don’t seem like an idol,” Ueda-sensei says in jest.

“Thank you,” Sho says automatically, taking the compliment before realising it’s the truth: he really isn’t an idol. He should have taken offence at Ueda-sensei’s comment.

Whatever, though. He’s an idol, right here in this moment, and he’ll fucking bask in it if he wants to.

***

Sho hears a familiar melody and looks up from the script for the video shoot to see Nino at the piano. He never knew Nino could play.

“Isn’t that ‘Knights of Love’?” asks Sho, approaching Nino.

“Unfortunately, yes,” replies Nino, and Sho grins.

Nino has this layered way of speaking that Sho loves, conveying a great deal of meaning without sounding too fancy. It makes Sho smile. Sho’s good with words, but he thinks Nino is better.

Nino’s fingers pause upon the keyboard. Sho urges him to start playing again, and Nino obliges.

“Are you doing all this by ear?” asks Sho, getting increasingly impressed as Nino figures out the chord progression.

“Yep,” Nino says, glancing up from the keyboard to smile at Sho.

Sho has always found playing the piano easier with sheet music, and he wonders if he can remember the chords just by looking at Nino’s hands. He copies Nino’s movements in the air, and with that mnemonic, accompanies Nino on the treble. Nino makes room for him on the piano bench and soon they are playing a rendition of _Knights of Love_ that is solely their own, and Sho gets lost in the music with Nino.

Right before the last few bars they instinctively hold each other’s gazes, just briefly, to measure the pause; Sho feels light-headed as he breaks away from the exchange; he’s seeing Nino differently, somehow, in this musical dialogue, like he’s taking Nino in, drinking in all of his brilliance and charm and cleverness, and Sho feels utterly conquered when the song ends.

He finally takes notice of the others and snaps back into reality. There’s a burn in his cheeks and his palms are wet as he answers Nino’s call for a high-five; his heartbeat sounds uncomfortably close. Aiba says he’s gotten it all on camera and Sho’s sure the documentary team has too; he hopes the footage doesn’t give his newfound feelings away.

Sho suddenly feels hyperconscious, panicking at the proximity he’s sharing with Nino on that narrow piano bench. He gets up, but Jun stops him.

“Hang on, this is great for our Instagram. Pose, you guys.”

Sho can feel Nino’s heat against his back, arm snaking around his waist, and he feels like a right perv when he catches a whiff of Nino’s deodorant and labels it Nino’s scent. Oh God.

Sho perches gingerly and smiles.

Ohno is giving them a strange look, and for a moment Sho panics—Ohno and Nino, right, it’s always been _Ohno_ and Nino, what the fuck are all these emotions—but all Ohno does is to move Sho’s head so that more of his profile is showing, and he has Nino balance his chin on Sho’s shoulder.

“Dude, your shoulders need a sign,” Nino complains to Sho. “‘Slope ahead: thirty degrees.’”

They all laugh, and Sho is glad for it—humour is good, humour is really good, it makes the tension ebb away.

Sho’s pulse gradually regulates.

 _It’s nothing_ , Sho tells himself. Nino is his friend, just his friend.

Jun snaps the picture.

While all this is going on, Aiba finishes uploading the video, and Nino starts watching it on his phone.

Sho wants to assure himself that he’s going to be fine interacting with Nino as how he’s always been; he arranges himself on the seat and props his hand on the other side of Nino to support himself before saying:

“Let me watch?”

Nino rotates the phone so the video is full screen. He’s humming along, and Sho can’t help but recall several other instances that Nino’s gotten caught up in whatever’s playing and just vocalises it, almost as if he doesn’t realise he’s doing it.

It’s like a secret discovery on Sho’s part. He happily stores the thought in the recess of his mind he’s reserved for Nino, where there is a smattering of Nino-related trivia, like what brand of cigarettes he smokes, that he actually knows the meaning of ‘propinquity’ off the top of his head, that he scored full marks on a Japanese test once.

“Check out the reactions,” Sho suggests, and when Nino taps on it Sho kind of regrets it, because there are a lot of fans out there who are going crazy over the video just because it’s him and Nino in it. There’s someone who’s used up their entire 140-character limit with the syllable ‘kya’. It’s hilarious.

But Sho only kind of regrets it. He mostly enjoys it, steering clear of entertaining the myriad thoughts of why he does, though he says out loud that he’s an ‘Ohmiya shipper’ just to mask his glee. There’s a twinge of jealousy when the words take form; the feeling is exacerbated by Ohno (albeit jokingly) coming to take his place on the piano bench, hugging Nino close to his side—but Sho convinces himself that it’s okay, it’s perfectly okay, because Nino is just his friend.


	2. Chapter 2

Sho’s parents are quite upset when they find out about Sho’s idol activities via a huge truck plying Aoyama (not Shibuya, because demographics) advertising Akatsuki’s debut single. They confront him about it via Google Hangouts.

 _It’s an assignment,_ Sho writes back.

_What assignment would require you to be an idol?_

Sho rolls his eyes at his mum’s message. His parents are incredibly well-educated, but they can be such stick-in-the-muds.

_Being an idol is just a respectable job as any other. And the job is secret, I can’t say._

His dad replies with:

_It’s entertainment. Isn’t it enough already that you make a living writing about it? Why do you have to write about living it?_

Sho shoots back:

_I see you’ve figured it out, but don’t broadcast it, okay?_

His dad immediately writes:

_Wretched frivolity. Godspeed._

Sho sighs inwardly. His dad has this barbed way of using words that he both admires and hates.

Jun’s voice cuts into his thoughts. “Hey, Sho-san. Can I talk to you about something?”

Jun’s eyes are serious, his manner fitted to one willing to shed the weight of the world in a heartbeat.

Sho sees his mother typing up a reply, but he closes the laptop. He’ll deal with his parents when the time comes for it.

***

Sho lies there, hearing the steady breathing of his four roommates, hearing the sounds of the night, thinking.

Childish as it sounds, he doesn’t want to sleep. If he does, he’d wake up to what might be his last day with them. The other four are guaranteed to be back together. He’s not part of that plan.

Sho sits up. As quietly as he can, he slips out of his futon. He’s going to sit out the night with coffee.

He is almost on his feet when Aiba stirs beside him. Sho stills. He hears Aiba inhaling deeply, making a whimpering sound.

“Sho-chan?”

Crap.

“Sorry,” Sho whispers, falling onto his haunches.

Aiba groggily sits up. He puts a hand on Sho’s arm to stall him, checks that Jun is still asleep, grabs his phone and hits a button so the screen illuminates the darkness just enough. He taps on Sho’s knee, points to the door. They get up and tiptoe across a tiny square of tatami, hop as quietly as they can over Ohno and Nino’s legs, and slide open the door.

Several seconds later they are on the sofa in the lounge.

“I’m sorry,” Aiba says abruptly, and Sho starts.

“What for?”

“I figured it all out. I told everyone you weren’t actually elite.”

“Aiba-kun.” Sho shakes his head. “You guys would’ve found out sooner or later.”

Aiba sits up straight, his face hopeful. “But the higher-ups were talking about inviting you to join us. We want you to stay, too. Tomorrow, we’ll go to them and… And propose. Ask for your hand in marriage. All you have to do is to say yes. Right?”

Sho laughs at Aiba’s figure of speech. “I’m afraid it’s not that simple, Aiba-kun.”

“I understand,” says Aiba, but everything about his tone says he doesn't.

“I don’t mean to say that I won’t leave Enta-Biz. Nothing’s set in stone—that means I can’t promise you guys anything too,” Sho admits softly. “Being an idol… It isn’t my job. I didn’t earn it. There was no audition for me. A guy just showed up at my office and invited me here. That’s it.”

Aiba shakes his head vehemently. “The way you joined doesn’t matter. You’re as idol-like as the rest of us.”

“How about the guys who auditioned and didn’t make it?” Sho’s voice has gone very low. “I’m doing them a huge disservice.”

Aiba is stumped. Sho knows that out of all of them, Aiba is the one who has faced the most rejection, gone for the most auditions. Aiba knows how it feels to be those guys.

“I’m sorry, Aiba-kun. I’m just really confused right now. But there’s something I need you to know. It’s really embarrassing to say out loud, but,” Sho can feel the heat creep across his face, “I’m so glad we got to have this: the boot camp, the internet campaign, the conversations, the beer parties. I’m so glad we got to do it together. How I feel about you guys—it’s real. That’s the only thing that doesn’t baffle me at this point.”

Aiba leans back into his seat, folds his hands across his stomach. “God…” he says, then he can’t go on because his face crumples and he starts to _cry_.

It both touches and surprises Sho, and he puts an arm around Aiba to draw him close, terribly grateful for Aiba’s friendship and tears and understanding.

Aiba sniffles. “…I can’t imagine Akatsuki without you.”

Sho can only nod and pat Aiba’s arm.

Neither can he.

***

“I’m sorry,” says Koike, and her tone is gentle, though her eyes are sad. “It’s a demanding position. We can’t have you straddling both.”

Sho swallows. He looks at Kokubun, who is lolling happily in the boardroom chair, paying semi-attention.

“So if I join Akatsuki officially, I’d have to resign,” Sho repeats what he’s been told. He feels cold, suddenly. He’s been with Enta-Biz for 15 years, worked with Koike for eight. It’s a lot to give up.

“I hope it’s alright to ask…” Koike addresses Kokubun. “What will happen to the unit if Sakurai-san decides to stay at Enta-Biz? It is my understanding that he is involved in several of its core activities.”

Kokubun leans forward and folds his arms on the table. “We’ll make a public announcement that he’s leaving the group, explain that he’s quitting entertainment, maybe launch another single for the other four, perhaps announce a tour. The plan is still in the works. The die-hard fans will stick with the group so we’re not too worried. We’ll conduct a couple of surveys, host a focus group or two, and depending on the response we might recruit another guy in a few months.”

Sho wishes he hadn’t heard that. It’s breaking his heart.

But Kokubun is shaking his head now, chuckling. “That said, Koike-san, we’d really like to have this one.” Kokubun gives Sho’s back a gentle slap. “I wish we could say we’d fight you for him, but we don’t have Enta Japan’s resources, nor can we guarantee him all the benefits he’s entitled to as an employee here. It’s up to you, Sakurai-kun.”

Sho wants to hug him.

Koike nods, her manner quiet. She looks at Sho. “It’s your choice, then, I guess.”

***

It’s another day at the office, except Sho has been here overnight, trying to write the article. He hasn’t decided on the angle, though he more or less knows what style he wishes to write in. So far he’s written _chunks_ , placeholder pieces of text that he’s yet to figure out how to link up.

He’d actually been talking to the Joshima & Associates board members in private while at boot camp—the Akatsuki guys truly thought he’d been in ‘elite meetings’—and held a final individual interview with each executive before camp officially ended. As he thumbs through his notes, he’s once again amazed at how much the higher ups had been watching them, and how acutely they’d observed the group dynamics developing.

Starting tomorrow he will interview the four members themselves. Sho is excited to see them again, but he also dreads it because of all the emotions they evoke in him, that wretched longing for what he shouldn’t have wanted in the first place. Enta-Biz and Joshima & Associates had very kindly put the ball in his court in a meeting last week; currently, said ball is still lying untouched and actively ignored.

Worst of all, Sho knows he’s going to be in for it if he doesn’t meet the end-of-the-week deadline. He’d have failed his original purpose, have all his effort come to naught, been tormented thusly for nothing.

It’s a battle on multiple fronts, Sho thinks as he heads to the pantry to make himself another coffee. And right now, he’s fighting alone.

***

As Sho heads home on the train, he replays the kiss over and over again in his head. He feels his lower lip throbbing, and blushes.

He likes Nino. He must really like Nino, oh God. 

And, Sho thinks to himself, it’s official—he’s into boys too. It was the first time Sho had said it out loud, and it’d been to Nino; thankfully, Nino took it splendidly.

Sho’s been intimate with mostly women, save for one guy in university. That had been a fling, but it’d been enough for him to know, deep down, that he was attracted to men too. That guy had been trying to figure things out as well and ended up identifying as straight, married a woman, had kids.

Sho hadn’t tried dating men after that. It was easier that way. There was a lot of different shit bisexuals had to deal with—Sho had done his research—and he just wasn’t ready for it.

It took a failed year-long relationship with a girl from Marketing for Sho to decide he was done with dating. He was 33 then, and seeing his friends get married and have kids was great, but it was also tiring, with the whole business of wanting it yet failing to attain it. He was exhausted with trying to find someone to love, and ironic as it was, just because he was attracted to people of both genders didn’t automatically increase the number of potential The Ones. ‘The One’ was singular for a reason.

He decided to focus on his career, devote his life to what he was good at, and if he found someone along the way, then great. He got to meet a lot of different people as a journalist; Sho was really counting on that to improve his chances. And it did, because he’s met Nino, that amazing creature with a beautiful mind.

If Sho weren’t a journalist, he would never have crossed paths with Nino—Sho is willing to bet he wouldn’t go all the way to almost-Chiba just to rent a DVD. That’s why this has fate written all over it. It’s so complicated with the whole Akatsuki-or-Enta-Japan thing but Sho believes it lends further credibility to romantic destiny.

Sho sounds crazy, even to himself. His cheeks grow warm as he recalls how he bumbled through his confirmation of whether or not Nino was attracted to guys when _the guy had just said he’s gay_ ; God, he is such an idiot.

But Sho really hadn’t seen it coming. He thought Nino was going to make a joke, like ‘I don’t eat oatmeal’ or something else Nino-ish, but instead Nino basically confirmed that Sho wasn’t alone in his infatuation, and fuck, what were the odds?

Sho hasn’t liked someone this much in a long time. In fact, he doesn’t think anyone even comes close. It was that fucking piano duet, he moans to himself, though he isn’t really lamenting. He recalls the intensity of emotions he experienced with Nino, their connection, and it’s like a thirst, this want, this feeling of hoping to experience it again.

And those lips. Sho can’t believe he’s having these thoughts on a train, it feels forbidden, and he instinctively concentrates on looking at his knees, embarrassed. But _those lips_ —Sho has to taste them again. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he doesn’t.

All this said, Sho’s most pressing task is to stop being that jerk on the fence and decide what to do about his career. Nino, too, was very clear about what takes priority. Sho has to get this sorted out, and he will, because he really likes Nino.

Nino is worth it.

***

There is no doubt that Nino will be out of Sho’s reach if he chooses to leave Akatsuki, because at the rate their popularity is rising on the Internet, they’re going to win over all the important demographics—but the thing that makes is more complicated is, if he stays in Akatsuki and they got together, they could change the entire dynamic of the group.

Sho realises he has to leave Nino out of the equation and despair about the matter like how he’s always done.

Funnily enough it’s an email from Ohno that helps Sho make his decision.

Ohno writes:

_Tomorrow, we become Akatsuki._

There are a few ways of reading it. Who was _we_ , in Ohno’s eyes? Sho knows Ohno didn’t send the message to gloat. Ohno considers him part of the _we_.

Sho feels rage surging through his veins. He’s got no business to be upset at Ohno—and he isn’t—but he just feels so furious, so helpless, so fucking dumb that he’s gotten so deep that he’s now part of the _we_.

In the process of venting he accidentally breaks Aiba’s penlight and it _horrifies_ him. He picks up the pieces and stares at them mournfully. Aiba’s penlight didn’t deserve to bear the brunt of his vexation.

He finally calms down.

Sho looks at the message once more.

In their conversations since his journalist identity was revealed, Aiba had been all questions (“What do you want, Sho-chan?”), Nino had been both assertive and subtle (it’d essentially been “Stay, you’re our bandmate”) and Jun hadn’t said anything to the point (but he’d used a lot of metaphors).

Ohno, however, has simply stated an outcome.

Tomorrow, they become Akatsuki.

It’s then that Sho realises Ohno is probably the only one who just _believed_ Sho would choose them.

Sho lets the wonder and gratitude fill him, and the love; he is awash with emotion at how much Ohno gives, fathoms his quiet wisdom, his guilelessness.

Sho finally know what he wants. It’s been staring at him in the face all along. He wants _everything_. His heart soars; it’s so light. Sho picks up his phone to call Joshima, but before that he replies Ohno’s email.

_Thank you._


	3. Chapter 3

Amazingly, Sho does sort of get everything: he is a part of Akatsuki but still freelances for Enta-Online, under a contract they’ve drawn up with Joshima & Associates that allows him to write a monthly column for the magazine. It’s not as much writing as he’d hoped for but the talent agency points out he probably won’t have much time for that anyway.

Three days into their official debut, Akatsuki’s YouTube channel gains a hundred _thousand_ subscribers, and they’re approached by several initiatives and media outlets for collaboration. They decide to go with the Paralympics, and are in the midst of booking tickets to Rio when the executive producer of Music Station calls and invites them to guest.

There is an emergency meeting and several options are considered before they decide to send one representative to film the online special while the other four guest on Music Station.

Sho volunteers to go to Brazil. The others agree he’ll do the best job, but when they tell Music Station what’s going on, the producers suggest CGI-ing in the missing member. It’s wonderful promotion for their appearance on the show and seriously, everybody wins, everyone is happy and they start working their asses off, and it’s on the plane to Rio that Sho figures out it’s time he and Nino talk about what’s going to happen to them. In the pockets of alone time they’ve managed to scavenge from their frenetic day-to-day, they’ve established that yes, they like each other; yes, they’re inclined towards serious, exclusive relationships; yes, they’re interested in discussing how that could work for them.

Sho FaceTimes Nino when Nino gets off work—he’s up to speed with Akatsuki’s schedule even though he’s overseas, that’s just how he is—and Nino picks up, looking very amused.

“Hey, you. To what do I owe the honour of a video call?”

It’s past 10 PM in Japan. Nino is already home, and from the looks of it, applying subtitles to a vlog they’re going to release in the next couple of days.

“I kinda wanted to see your face.”

This makes Nino smile. “You must be dead beat from your flight.”

“I’m okay. I just got to the hotel,” Sho says, showing Nino the room.

“Pfft, our dorm was fancier.”

Sho laughs and turns the laptop towards himself again. Nino is settling his phone against something, and he folds himself so his knee props up his elbow and his palm supports his chin. Sho imagines himself in the same position and feels a phantom cramp coming on.

“Listen. I’ve had a twenty-three-hour journey and a lot of time to think,” starts Sho.

“About us?” Nino asks, not missing a beat.

Nino’s quickness reminds Sho, once again, that the Nino at home tends to be very similar to the Nino at work, and this makes Sho comfortable enough to get straight to the point.

Sho nods. “When I come back from Rio, I’d like for us to start dating.”

Nino immediately lowers his chin so that his hand cradles half his face. Sho wonders if this is actually shyness he detects in Nino’s countenance and hopes he wasn't too direct. Nino looks cute as fuck, though.

“I want to say this is our business and our business alone,” Nino finally says, “but for better, for worse, we happen to be part of something bigger than ourselves, so I think we should have a talk with the other three. It’s not like we have to seek their approval or anything, but if they have any reservations, I want to respect their opinions and not just dive into something I’ll regret.”

Okay. Nino isn’t saying no. Sho remains hopeful.

Sho watches as Nino grabs the phone, and the orientation of the screen keeps rotating until finally it stops and Sho sees Nino’s face again, resting sideways on a pillow, a lot closer to the camera. Nino reaches out and clicks on a light, and Sho knows he’s curled up on his bed. Sho wonders if he feels safer there.

Several moments pass, and Nino remains so still that Sho hovers over the Wi-Fi icon to check the connectivity status.

“I don’t know if we should do it,” says Nino eventually. His voice is quiet, and he sighs. “But I want to, I think.”

Nino’s eyes flick away from the camera, and it takes a few seconds for Sho to realise Nino is looking at him on the screen. This is probably the first time in the months Sho has known Nino that he’s seeing Nino like this, wordless and torn and possibly vulnerable.

“Let’s go on a date,” says Sho suddenly. “All five of us.”

Nino actually laughs. “That counts as a date in your book?”

“…Nino. We should let them know that we want to give this a try. They deserve to have a choice to support us or to, well, trample on our budding romance.”

“‘Trample on our budding romance.’” Nino giggles at Sho’s choice of words.

Sho’s voice is firm, reassuring, or at least he hopes it is so. “If we don’t work out and, knock on wood, can’t be friends, we could seriously fuck things up. And if we do work out, it might be great for us, but it could still be awkward for the rest, perhaps even alienate them. There’s a lot of pressure either way.”

Nino is watching him intently, nodding.

“But I kind of like that pressure. I think it holds me accountable, in the best way possible, to Akatsuki; to you. We can’t afford to be flighty, and that can only be a good thing. I’m not sure where you stand on commitment, but I—” Sho is suddenly shy, “—I want to be serious about you. I really want this to work, if we start. I’m not going to make any grand promises and I know you won’t too, but all aside, if I had to condense my feelings for you into their simplest form—you’re my friend, and you’re very important to me, and I don’t want to give you anything less than you deserve.”

As Sho nervously finishes his sentence, Nino hides his face in the crook of his elbow, peering at Sho over his arm. Sho can see from the crinkling of his eyes that he’s smiling, and that’s good, that’s really good.

“So yeah, I’d like for all of us to hang out and I’d like to know what the others think about members dating members. Honestly, if they say they hate it, I’ll probably date you in secret, if you’ll have me; and a year or so later I’ll tell them we were actually dating all along, and they’d have nothing to say about it.”

“Or we could just go ‘Fuck it all!’ and elope.”

“ _What?_ No.”

“You know I’m kidding, Sho-chan.”

“No, actually, sometimes I really don’t,” Sho deadpans, and Nino laughs into his pillow.

Sho knows they can only have this conversation precisely because they believe that the others wouldn’t condemn their choices or inclinations—they would never think of telling them, otherwise.

Sho glances at the clock. He has to get ready for a shoot. “Work calls. I’ll text the rest about the date, all right?”

Nino nods. “Work hard.”

“You too.”

They disconnect. Sho crosses the room to get the outfit he’s supposed to wear for the afternoon, and he’s about to change when his phone buzzes.

It’s a message from Nino.

_Just thought I’d say:  
I want to be serious about you too._

_Good night._

When he meets his manager half an hour later Sho’s asked why he’s smiling like that, and Sho just says he has a date planned for when he gets back.

***

Sho coordinates a dinner that’s just them, just Akatsuki, and he and Nino reveal their intent to date. The other members are supportive, though not without reservations, and Sho considers the appeal a success.

At the end of the evening they all hail taxis except for Aiba and Nino, who find it easier to hop on the Sobu Line back to their respective homes because it’s faster and cheaper. They’re the only ones who haven’t yet moved to the celebrity-friendly part of town; Aiba is trying out living in an area of Tokyo that’s closer to his mother’s place in Chiba, while Nino hasn’t yet seen the need to leave his current apartment. They have to catch the last train, and Sho hardly gets the chance to say anything else to Nino except a hurried ‘I’ll text you’, and Nino and Aiba dash off to the nearest JR entrance.

An hour later Sho’s on his bed, about to send a message to Nino, but Nino beats him to it with a phone call. Sho picks up almost immediately.

“I see you aren’t asleep yet,” Nino says, and there’s a grin in his voice.

“I was just about to text you. I’m fresh from my bath and smelling awesome.”

“I still smell like the _izakaya_. Bummer.”

From his end, Sho hears the jingle of keys and the click of a lock, and he realises Nino called him even before he stepped into his apartment.

“Sho-chan, this might sound silly, but I really wanted to verify our level-up, and I didn’t want to do it over Line.”

“…Did you just refer to our relationship status as a level?”

“I did, yes,” says Nino, laughing.

“I kind of love it.”

“Aw.”

Sho grins. “So. About this level.”

“Yeah—we weren’t dating before, and now we’re… dating?”

Sho draws his brows together. “Quick question. For you, is ‘dating’ the same as ‘being a couple’?”

“If I were to really define it I’d say people date to see if they’re compatible to be a couple.” Nino pauses, and Sho hears the boot-up music of a computer. “Do we really need to go through that? I mean, over the past couple of weeks we’ve been talking about the prospect of being a couple, and now that we’re ready to go ahead and be one, suddenly we have to backtrack and see if we’re suitable for each other?”

“I feel the same way. We’ve communicated enough about this. I’m inclined to declare that we found a couple of level-up potions and go from ‘not dating’ to ‘in a relationship’.” 

“Good call. May I play a victory tune?”

“A what?”

“I made a track for us. Here.” There are a series of clicks and a jaunty piece of level-up game music plays.

“So this is why you insisted on not doing this over text!” Sho exclaims, laughing. “Oh wait, it’s over? Play it again. Put it on loop!”

“It’s our current theme. I came up with it a few days ago to mark this occasion,” informs Nino. “Tell me I have great foresight.”

“Your foresight is impeccable.” Sho smiles. As he listens to the music, Sho experiences an insurmountable joy. Nino having faith in their friends, having faith in them, having faith in this beginning—it means so much.

“Nino.”

“Here.”

Sho chuckles. “I’m looking forward to us.”

There is a pause, and Nino’s reply comes heartfelt and soft around the edges.

“Me too.”


	4. Chapter 4

It’s six weeks post debut, and Ohno looks like fresh death as he enters the greenroom.

“I don’t remember the industry being this busy,” Ohno moans, dumping himself on the couch where Nino is seated, angling his head on Nino’s shoulder.

“Or maybe it was the same, only you were twenty years younger,” Aiba says from the armchair opposite them, nursing a cup of coffee.

Nino snickers, doesn’t look up from his game. “Burn, Ohno-san. Burn.”

“Are you getting enough magnesium, Leader?” Jun asks, grabbing his bag, ready to rummage in it. “I have some supplements, if you want.”

Ohno lifts his head from Nino’s shoulder. “I think I just need to hold off the nightcaps for a little bit. Thanks, Matsujun.”

Their documentary is getting released in four days and they’ve been doing a lot of promotional work for it. (Ohno gets interviewed the most, as leader. He seems to dislike it.) Apart from that, they’re recording a bunch of songs, and there have been some negotiations going on for their own late night show, on top of several auditions lined up for each of them. They’re still at the YouTube thing, only now their upload schedule is once a week. Most of their fans understand; they’re on TV a lot more now so digital stardom has to take a backseat.

Sho doesn’t look up from his computer. “We just have one more scene left to shoot, right? Hang in there, Satoshi-kun.”

It’s only them in the room, all the staff are outside preparing the set for the last bit of their new promotional video.

Ohno sighs and turns his eyes upwards at Nino. “I wonder how you guys even have time to date. Sho-kun even has to write that column for Enta-Online,” he says, pointing at Sho.

There is silence in the room, save for the clacking from Sho’s keyboard and Nino’s mashing of buttons on his Nvidia Shield Portable. They are diligently not exchanging guilty looks.

“…Please tell me you’ve gone on at least one date.” Aiba sounds horrified as he looks back and forth between the two.

“It’s not a big deal,” says Nino.

Ohno straightens and looks at Nino sternly. “It’s been a month—”

“Month and a half, actually, since the dinner,” Jun provides helpfully.

“—a month and a half, and you haven’t gone on a date?”

“Are you guys still together?” Aiba asks in a hushed voice, eyes wide in fright.

Sho stops typing, glances at Nino, gives Aiba a reassuring look. “We are. And we get to see each other every day at work. That’s cool, right, Nino?”

“Totally,” agrees Nino. “And it’s not like we don’t talk to each other after work. We own these things called phones…”

“Crap. So we’re your permanent third wheel,” Aiba realises out loud.

Sho laughs. “You guys aren’t that bad, really.”

“Don’t you guys hang out at home or something?” Jun ventures.

Their faces tell him no.

“We have the same schedules, you know we’ve been functioning on two, three-hour sleep days,” Sho tries to explain.

Ohno shakes his head. “As leader, I find this unacceptable. Something needs to be done.”

The conversation is interrupted when a staff member knocks and they’re summoned to the studio for their last scene. Sho brushes his fingers against Nino’s when no one’s looking, and Nino gives him the briefest of smiles, acknowledging it. They’re good. They may be worrying the others, but they’re good.

The next day they have to film and edit a five-person beatbox challenge that they’ve been holding off on because it’s going to be a bitch to edit, but when Sho and Nino meet at the agency in the morning there is no one there save for their managers, who inform them there’s been a change in schedule, didn’t they know already?

Sho and Nino look at each other.

“No,” they say together.

Go and Juri shrug. They have a lot of work to do and can’t stay to chat.

“Call Ohno-kun,” Go advises as he walks away. “He was the one who sent out the email.”

They leave the corridor, and Sho gives Nino a puzzled look. “Email?”

“No idea,” Nino says, dragging his phone out of his bag. He unlocks the screen, and mentions there’s been some activity in their group chat.

Sho has also opened up the group chat, and he starts to laugh as he reads the latest messages.

**OHNO SATOSHI**  
_Hi guys, I assume you’re at the agency_

**AIBA MASAKI**  
_Hi, Sho-chan and Nino! We’re postponing the beatbox video!_

**MATSUMOTO JUN**  
_We decided to do ‘Ohno vs. Aiba vs. Matsumoto in Izu', sorry we’re going without you guys!_

**OHNO SATOSHI**  
_Yay, Izu~_

**AIBA MASAKI**  
_This is our surprise to you!!!!!!!!! HAPPY DAY OFF, GO ON A DATE PLZ_

**OHNO SATOSHI**  
_There’s a catch, though. Tomorrow you guys will have to do a location shoot with Evergold in Ibaraki, your call time is 2 AM or something, check with Yone_

**MATSUMOTO JUN**  
_Sorry m(_ _)m_

**AIBA MASAKI**  
_Sorry!!_

**OHNO SATOSHI**  
_Yeah, sorry. It was the only way. Some scheduling thing because we switched Izu up. Also, the management thinks you guys are working on a song together, so don’t tell them it’s your day off, I’ll get into trouble!_

**MATSUMOTO JUN**  
_Have fun, you guys!_

**AIBA MASAKI**  
_USE PROTECTION_

“Idiots,” Nino says, rolling his eyes, but he’s grinning, and Sho steers him by the shoulders to the office so they can look for their chief manager, Yone.

10 minutes later they’re in a taxi. They’ve found out that their call time is actually 12 AM, and they have about eight hours to hang out, less if they want more sleep.

“Where to?” the driver asks, and Sho, engrossed on his phone, tells Nino he calls dibs on planning the evening, so the afternoon is in Nino’s hands.

Nino immediately instructs:

“Akihabara, please.”

Sho laughs out loud.

They get to Akihabara, and put on masks and wear caps so they don’t get recognised. Sho follows Nino into several stores, and they discover they're both into audio systems and can probably build one together. They realise how great a geeky video it’d be and start planning how they would film it before Sho realises they're talking about work on their date.

“It’s okay, couples should be able to talk about whatever they want to talk about,” says Nino decidedly. “It’s fun, so who cares?”

Sho can’t agree more.

For dinner they scout around for places that have private rooms and end up at an _udon_ restaurant because Nino is not in the mood for hamburg steak, which is just mind-blowing for Sho. He documents the moment by taking a picture of Nino with his food, editing it so there’s an arrow pointing to the bowl with the words _NOT HAMBURG STEAK._ He sends it to the group chat and the others all react with similar surprise.

Jun then sends them a picture from a bicycle theme park with a bunch of people posing behind him and Ohno and Aiba, every single one of them on bicycles, the word _Fans!_ in bright colours at the top of the photo.

Nino replies with a photo of Sho gaping absurdly at his own noodles, and the caption reads:

_STILL NOT HAMBURG STEAK._

Ohno then text-yells at them to concentrate on their date, which makes them collapse in laughter.

“Sho-chan,” Nino says later, as they push aside their empty bowls, “not every lover wants to be a friend, and I’m really glad you’re both.”

Nino’s sincerity has come from left field. It makes Sho stop breathing.

Nino looks back at him, curling his fingers around his cheek and smiling into his palm.

Sho wants to kiss him.

“Not to ruin the moment, but it’s almost six and hence my turn to commandeer the evening,” Sho says instead, quelling his impulses. “As much as it’s perfunctory and banal to subscribe to what society deems conventional for what constitutes a date, I think it’s best we don’t make our first one ‘Roaming around Akiba for five hours and eating udon’. Let’s not do anything we’ll regret.”

“When you are done sounding like you ate a thesaurus, fair sir, the night shall be all yours.”

They don’t argue about who foots the bill—Sho had proclaimed it was his time to shine, after all—and they hop into a taxi again. Sho plucks up the courage to take Nino’s hand halfway into the ride, and the look Nino gives him in return is exhilarating.

They arrive at their destination, a skyscraper in the heart of Ginza, and Sho takes him up to the top floor. When the elevator doors open, Nino pulls down his mask. His face lights up.

“You booked us a massage?” Nino’s voice soars an octave as he reads the sign outside the salon.

“Yes. Full body, Swedish, an hour, and I used one of those internet coupons.” Sho smiles broadly. “Also, the owner happens to be a friend from high school so _maybe_ she’ll give us a further discount. Fingers crossed.”

Sho doesn’t hanker after deals, but even on national TV Nino has been very unabashed about the penny-pinching part of his identity. Sho’s hoping this would score him some brownie points.

“How is it possible that you’re better than me at this date thing?” Nino grumbles as Sho pushes open the door, and Sho knows it’s high praise coming from Nino, who has won two _Plan Her Ideal Date!_ challenges in a row on an NTV gameshow.

They step into the establishment and are greeted by the owner herself. She is a svelte, bright-eyed lady, pretty in the girl-next-door kind of way. Sho introduces herself as Ueto Aya, and when he tells her Nino’s name, her jaw drops.

“Wait—you’re the real deal!” Aya exclaims.

“Flesh and blood, yes.” Nino grins, his mask hanging off one of his ears.

“Sho-kun didn’t mention he’d be bringing his bandmate. What an honour,” Aya says, giving them both a warm smile. She checks a file she has on the counter. “I see here you’ve, uh, booked the couples massage?”

“Yes,” Sho replies, very calm. “There’s a discount on it, right?”

Nino hides his face and laughs.

“Oh, you guys. Fine, I’ll make a concession.” Aya grins conspiratorially, like she’s in on a silly joke. 

They each fill out a survey on a tablet asking about their experience with massage, and then Aya pulls back a tulle curtain to reveal a hallway.

“The masseuses are waiting for you in the Viridian Room. Last door on the right.”

They thank her and are halfway down the corridor when Nino mutters:

“A _couples_ massage? So I guess we’re ‘pseudo-real’?”

Sho laughs. Nino is wonderfully accurate with the term.

Sho has gleaned from the internet that the Viridian Room is named for its reflective glass windows, except they only appear that colour on the outside. From the inside, the expansive walls provide a breathtaking view of the Tokyo cityscape, and Sho tries not to think about how high up they are because it makes him nervous.

The masseuses—both women—don’t bat an eyelid when they see two men enter the room, thankfully, and ask them some questions based on the preferences they’ve indicated on their survey. Sho and Nino select their aroma oils and are given some time to get completely naked and under the towels that lie on their massage tables.

When the masseuses exit the room, Nino is giving Sho a sly look.

Sho holds up his hands in protest. “I swear it’s not why I planned this. I was thinking of how tired we’ve been and how fond you are of massages.”

“I didn’t say anything,” answers Nino airily.

Sho considers this, then adds in a low voice:

“I’m not saying that I don’t want to see you with no clothes on, because I really, really do.”

There is pink dusting Nino’s cheeks despite his grin. “Sakurai-kun, the two of us are about to get naked—with other people in the room. If I get a boner during my massage and the tabloids get wind of it, it’s all on you.”

“I’m willing to take the risk, Ninomiya-kun,” says Sho seriously, unbuckling his belt.

“Shut up. They’re coming back, oh God.” Nino laughs as he turns his head towards the knock on the door, and Sho calls out that they’re not ready.

They abandon the hope of admiring each other in all their nude glory, shooting out of their clothes before positioning themselves on the table, and the masseuses enter after they answer the second knock.

The massage turns out a lot more pleasant (and less painful) than Sho expected, and when it ends, the two ladies excuse themselves, leaving Sho and Nino in a pretty room with a lot of candles.

“Hey,” Sho calls, reaching out his hand. Nino takes it, and they let their hands dangle between them as they lie on their massage tables.

Nino’s eyes are half-closed and he’s looking very comfortable. “If you’re thinking of making out, you’re on your own,” he drawls.

Sho laughs and gets to his feet. “I happen to have no problems with that.” He tugs on Nino’s hands and Nino begrudgingly sits up, eyes stubbornly shut.

“Am I seriously doing this on my own?” asks Sho, amused.

“Touch me first, then we talk.”

Sho laughs. He caresses Nino’s cheek with his own, nosing Nino’s sideburn. The aroma oils have made their skin ridiculously supple, late thirties complexion be damned.

Also, less friction is always welcome, Sho thinks wickedly.

Sho proceeds to trace a pattern on Nino’s knee with his fingertips, then drags his hand down to the back of Nino’s ankle. He squeezes.

Nino’s lips part as he tilts his head back and lets out a shallow breath; Sho sighs against Nino’s neck and starts dropping kisses on his throat.

Still breathing on Nino’s skin, Sho flits his fingertips from Nino’s ankle to his hips; he moves his hand up Nino’s side and splays his fingers against his neck to measure his glorious, quickening pulse. Sho hums as he starts brushing the pad of his thumb back and forth against Nino’s jaw.

Taking his cue from the tenting of the towel that’s draped over Nino’s hips, Sho glides his other hand up the side of Nino’s calf to the inside of his thigh, stopping when he feels the coarse hairs under his fingertips.

Sho angles his mouth against Nino’s ear.

“May I?”

Nino shudders, and in the next moment he’s thrown his arms around Sho’s neck, wrapping his legs around Sho’s waist, and they’re kissing, hard and fast and it’s electrifying with Nino groaning against Sho’s lips, his hand trailing heat down Sho’s bare chest to his stomach, then Nino is pulling away, panting, retracting his touch, leaving Sho dazed and yearning, fingers still wrapped around Nino.

“Not now,” Nino manages as he clutches Sho’s wrist, and Sho releases him.

Nino glances at the clock, looking crestfallen. “We’re taking too long in here. They know who we are.”

Sho understands, quietly celebrates Nino’s maturity, desperately wants to take Nino home. But the level-headed, responsible adult in him reminds that their call time the next morning is unholy, and while he’s pretty sure Nino will give in to temptation—all he has to do is ask—he knows the wiser thing to do is to wait for a better time.

Nino is already off the table, threading his head through his sweatshirt and, if Sho isn’t mishearing, saying something about how being famous and in a relationship with your bandmate could be as big a turn on as it was a boner-killer. Sho laughs as Nino’s head pops past his collar; he’s wearing the mother of all pouts.

“Well, this Friday we’re having a late start,” Sho remembers as he’s throwing on his jacket, “so perhaps we could have a house date on Thursday? We could be, you know, _working on the song_ , have the managers drop both of us off at my place.”

Nino blinks. “I foresee a host of inside jokes that the other three will be clued in on, now that you’ve successfully euphemised sex with ‘working on the song’.”

“I don’t mean to - why do you always… Never mind.” Sho laughs and aborts his attempt to correct Nino. “Are you in or not?”

“Yes.” Nino grabs his bag, puts on his mask. “Could’ve been tonight, but fucking 12 AM call time, what the fuck. Leader has shit negotiation skills.”

Sho rams his cap low on his head, nudges Nino as they head for the door together. “Your frustration is encouraging.”

“Of course. I just can’t wait to work on the song,” Nino says loudly as he enters the hallway. Sho cracks up, but quickly claps his hand over his mouth as the customers that pass them by look at them curiously.

***

Late Thursday evening they say goodbye to Juri, who tells them to work hard on the song as she drops them off outside Sho’s apartment building, and they puzzle her greatly because they can’t stop laughing. Before she drives off she asks them not to overwork themselves, and she shakes her head when that sends them into fresh peals of laughter.

“Dude, this apartment though.” Nino nods towards the concierge. “The security is excellent, there’s heating in the corridors—I can’t imagine the rent you’re paying every month.”

Sho is nervous. He’s never brought anyone from work to his apartment before. But Nino isn’t just ‘someone from work’.

They step into the elevator. Sho taps his key card against a reader and _11_ lights up on the panel of buttons.

“I don’t pay rent,” Sho says slowly, and the doors bump shut.

Nino stares. “Please tell me this isn’t your parents’ house.”

“It’s my own place.”

“Oh.” Nino’s expression is unreadable.

Sho doesn’t have to explain, but he finds himself doing so anyway.

“A journalist’s pay isn’t too shabby, and my mum’s a full-time trader, so with her help on some investments I could afford to buy property when I turned thirty-five. That’s it, really.”

They spend the ascent through the next few floors in silence. It isn’t entirely uncomfortable. Sho knows Nino isn’t threatened or jealous; those responses don’t match up to the Nino Sho has come to know.

Nino meets his eyes. “Status, wealth, whatever it is—if you have that and I don’t, it’s cool. It’s sheer coincidence that you’re this person, and I happen to be with you. We don’t really get to choose who we fall for, but since we’ve decided to be with each other, nothing should be weird.”

Sho has never felt fonder of a person. He slips his hand into Nino’s, squeezes it.

Family background has rarely come up in his conversations with Nino or the others. They’re almost forty and there was more to share about their adult lives than their childhood; and, save Aiba and Ohno, whose families Sho has already met, Sho doesn’t know much about Nino’s family, or Jun’s. Sho tries to recall what he knows about Nino’s parents: they’re retired and live in Saitama. Also, Nino might have mentioned an elder sister. That’s all Sho knows. But he has plenty of time to find out more, and he knows he shall.

The doors part, and Sho leads Nino to one of the three units on the floor.

“There’s kind of a grand piano in here,” Sho says, only half-joking about his warning as he unlocks the door, and Nino just grins.

“Grand pianos, private islands, diamond hills,” Nino says drily with a wave of his hand. “So long as you’re happy.”

He walks into the entryway and gives a little bow to the apartment, followed by an ‘excuse me’. Nino barely glances at the piano as he pads across the living room in his socked feet, going straight for the sofa. He places his bag on the floor and sits down beside it, tucking his legs under the coffee table and using the sofa as a backrest.

“See? Not fazed,” Nino announces.

Sho grins and leaves Nino in the living room, entering the kitchen. “Kirin or Ebisu?” he asks, opening the fridge.

“Kirin.” Nino gets to his feet and walks over to Sho. “Where are the glasses?”

“It’s okay. Go sit down.” Sho places the beers onto the countertop.

“Sho-chan,” Nino says patiently, “I’m not a guest. I’m not an occupant either, but I’m not a guest, so no, I’m not going to wait for you to serve me. I’m going to be right here, talking to you as you get our beers because I’m your…”

Sho waits.

“Oh God, I was about to call myself your ‘boyfriend’. Don’t you just hate that word?” Nino slouches and dunks his face into his palm. 

Sho is puzzled. “What’s wrong with ‘boyfriend’?”

“It’s so nonspecific. Can’t we come up with better? Between you and I, we’re pretty gifted semantically.”

Sho stares at Nino before breaking out into a grin. “You’re so cute, you know that?”

Nino gives him a look, ignores his comment. He lifts his eyes, considering his options. “I want to say ‘lover’, but that’s like an explanation, and ‘darling’ makes me quake with its—Showa-ness?”

Sho laughs, then it comes to him. “How about ‘idol’?”

“‘Idol’?” Nino screeches before guffawing. “‘Hey everyone, this is my idol.’ The fuck? Creative, though.”

Sho grins stupidly. “It’s not that strange! We’re idols, after all, and when you think about the meaning behind the word, it makes sense. I really do admire you. Be my idol, Nino.”

Nino can’t stop laughing as he grabs the beers. “Whatever. Come on, Sho-chan.”

They head to the living room to drink and talk, adjourn to the balcony to smoke and talk, before craving water and heading back into the living room again; they don’t pay attention to the time, and hours later they’re getting drowsy and Nino does a double-take of the clock and says:

“God, Sho-chan. I love that we can go on and on about random shit, but it’s three in the morning. I’m gonna fall asleep any moment.”

They’re facing each other on opposite ends of the sofa, Nino draped on an armrest and Sho lounging against the other one.

“Can I ask you one last thing?”

“I’m listening,” says Nino, yawning.

It’s something that’s been weighing on Sho’s mind for a while now, ever since that VTR taping for ZIP where the viewers gave their impressions of the relationships between each Akatsuki member. Nino and Sho had ranked highest on ‘Best Friends’.

It’s rather spot on; Sho realises even with Nino right here in front of him, he’s more keen to talk to Nino than to sleep with him. For a fleeting moment he wonders if it’s his age affecting his libido, then he remembers what happened at the massage salon, and decides it’s not that.

It just that Nino fascinates him - has always fascinated him, since they met. He loves finding out that Nino taught himself how to play piano, that he sometimes takes a bath with his clothes on, that he considers Ohno the ideal child. Sho loves Nino’s mind because it is a vast factory of wit and empathy and mystery; it is and will probably always be Sho’s favourite thing about Nino.

“Do you worry that we’re too platonic?” Sho blurts out.

Nino frowns. “Not at all. I like that you’re my friend.”

“Me too, but I worry. What if we discover we’re more suited to be friends than lovers?”

“I’m inclined to think that being friends will complement the romantic part of the relationship, Sho-chan.”

“I know, but for us it’s different. As long as we’re in Akatsuki, the option of not being together will always hold a certain charm—an escape, perhaps, to a less complicated group dynamic. I think things are going well now, but if we ever hit a bump as Akatsuki, or as a couple, what’s going to happen? Would we decide that it’s better for us to just be friends, since it’s so easy?”

They pass the next few seconds in silence.

Sho has no reservations about being this open with Nino. He trusts Nino wholeheartedly, as how only their shared experiences have allowed him to. Yet, he finds his pulse racing as he waits for Nino to respond.

“I don’t think it’s as compartmentalised as we think it is, this whole business of romantic relationships.” Nino takes a deep breath. “It might be a lofty ideal, but I like to think of it as neither ‘friends _or_ lovers’ nor ‘friends _and_ lovers’. It’s merely a category of ‘us’. It’s just people trying to navigate this whole business of communicating and compromising while being in love. I hope it’ll be the same for you and me.”

Their eyes meet, and Nino waits for a beat before he gets up to move to Sho’s part of the sofa, settling his head on Sho’s chest, burrowing against him.

It’s such a tender move. Sho’s stomach flutters as he lets his arm fall onto Nino’s waist.

Nino reaches up to cling onto Sho’s neck. “I wasn’t actively looking for a relationship. Neither were you. But somehow we’re here now, like this. I think that’s reason enough for me to root for us being together, than to be wondering if we’ll ever break up.”

Something clenches in Sho’s chest. In that moment that he knows he wants what he has with Nino to last, and he’s going to try his damnedest to make it happen. He hugs Nino close, feeling very, very grateful.

“Sho-chan?”

“Hm?”

“Can we have sex _after_ we wake up?”

This comes so unexpectedly that Sho breaks out into a laugh. He looks down at Nino, feels his cheeks getting hot.

“Sure. But I think you need to know that I’m very much a novice when it comes to the sex of butt.”

Nino giggles so hard it turns into a sort of hacking cough, and he sits up so he doesn’t accidentally jab Sho in the ribs.

“That’s okay,” says Nino after he’s stopped wheezing. “I’m not a complete fan of it either.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I mean, I’m aware it can be tremendously satisfying, but… it’s just one type of sex. It’s not the be-all and end-all of our intimacy. At least, I hope it won’t be.” Nino shrugs, and for an instant his expression is hard to read. It clears up almost immediately, however, and then he’s smirking at Sho in the usual way.

“‘sides, there are tons of hot ways to have sex,” says Nino, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he brushes his hand across Sho’s crotch.

Sho raises his eyebrows. Nino reciprocates with a look of what Sho can only describe as defiant innocence.

“Right. I’m trying to come up with an appropriate follow-up comment but all I can think of is ‘teach me all of them, Ninomiya-sensei’—am I over-sexualising myself?”

“Very much so.”

“Crap. But does it turn you on?”

“No comment.” Nino stretches and leaves the sofa, stalking off in the direction of the bedroom, but there’s a broad grin on his face.

Sho remains supine on the couch, looking up at the ceiling and wondering how someone as amazing as Nino was now his… idol.

“Starting in five minutes, ‘Lesson One: How to make the best of a ten-minute shower’,” Nino calls from down the hallway. “Don’t be late, Sakurai-kun.”

Sho jumps to his feet. “Should I bring a textbook?”

“Yes, if it comes in a bottle. Or a tube.”

“Would the Silicon Edition do? I presume it’s better for use in the bath.”

Nino pokes his head past the doorjamb of Sho’s bedroom, making a face. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“The textbook, Sensei. I have both the Silicon Edition and the Water-based one,” replies Sho in all seriousness.

Nino rolls his eyes. “Just come in here with the lube, you silly prick.”

Sho throws his head back to laugh, and strides to the bedroom.

***

Sho cracks open an eyelid. Nino is sitting on top of him, grinning. He bucks his hips against Sho’s erection, which Sho is only just aware of.

“There’s no time for anything complicated, but I think we can still have fun,” sings Nino.

“Okay, but you’re humping my bladder so let me go pee first.”

“ _Ossan_. Go.” Nino laughs and shoos him into the bathroom, and when Sho is inside he decides to strip, figuring that the occasion calls for it.

When he opens the door once more, Nino raises his eyebrows at the full-frontal nudity.

“You can be so stupidly confident with your body, you know?” Nino sounds like he’s complaining, but Sho can see there’s a lot going on in his boxers.

“And?” Sho challenges, grinning.

“…and rightly so,” Nino admits, as he gets up and presses himself flush against Sho, gaze focused, skin hot, mouth demanding.

Later, when they get picked up for work, Juri asks them about the progress of the song.

“It’s mind-blowing,” Nino boasts, and Sho almost chokes on his coffee.

“That good, huh?” Juri nods at them through the rearview mirror, marvelling.

“There’s this rap part that Sho-chan’s doing, and when he opens his mouth, God, it’s terrific. It’s very deep, just swallows you whole, you know?”

As Juri’s attention shifts to changing lanes, Sho thwacks Nino’s arm. It could turn out disastrous if Juri figures out Nino isn’t talking about lyrics; the management has no idea they’re together.

“See, he’s embarrassed.” Nino points to Sho, a look of disdain on his face. “But he’s gifted, this one. You should see him work the piano, Juri-chan. Amazingly clever hands.”

Sho gives up.


	5. Chapter 5

It’s December, and Sho and Nino really do write a song together. It’s a Christmas wedding song, and they get teased about it endlessly by shippers and non-shippers alike (oh, if only they knew), though Jun took one look at the lyrics and immediately knew who it was written for. They’re pretty sure he cried.

Sho and Nino also have their first fight this month. Sho has never directed anger or frustration at Nino before, and the foreignness of it all throws him off. He finds himself fuming and confused, and it’s really hard to be around Nino when he’s feeling this way. They’ve spoken about how their couple problems can turn out to be a negative game-changer for the group, and this is the first time they’re confronting that reality.

They’re in a disagreement about housing arrangements.

Nino has to move even though his lease isn’t up; his apartment isn’t secure enough and fans leave stuff in his mailbox and under his door. His landlord has also received complaints from other tenants because people are outside all the time, taking photos of the building and posting them on the internet.

The straw that broke the camel’s back was a weekly note taped to his door that said: _Be careful, I know where you live._ Nino had deemed the first two childish, but the agency got wind of it through Yone, who sent Nino home one night, only to see him receive the third.

The agency wants him to look for another apartment immediately and are willing to provide any assistance necessary.

When he hears about the situation, Sho thinks he has the best idea when he realises Nino could actually just live with him for a while. It makes perfect sense in Sho’s head—it’s logistically sound because they could get picked up and dropped off together, they could spend more time on work projects that involves mainly the two of them and it would give them more chances to be together alone.

Nino, however, has elected to stay at the dormitory during the interim. He thinks it’s the most convenient option because it’s close to all the TV stations and the agency, he’s familiar with the neighbourhood because of boot camp, and he doesn’t have to fork out a single cent.

Sho points out that his apartment fulfils all these conditions as well.

It’s awkward, talking to Nino in the dressing room shower, but they’re revealing their newest song in a live broadcast and are spending the whole day at Makuhari Messe, so this is pretty much the only place they can talk in private.

“It’s just a few days, Sho-chan,” Nino says, unable to keep the exasperation out of his voice. “Why are we talking about this again?”

“You were the one who said you’re not a guest at my home.”

“Yes, but I wasn’t in a position where I was moving house and needed a place to stay. I was invited over to spend time with you. There was a clear objective: it was a date. But it’s different this time. I don’t need to be at your place.”

“I’m not saying you _have_ to come over.”

“I think my plan suits me more, okay? I really enjoy spending time with you, but I don’t see why I should pick your place over the dorm. In my eyes, they’re equal. You said so yourself—they fulfil the same conditions.”

“I see. Excuse me, then.” Sho storms out of the bathroom, hurt by Nino’s practicality and preferences, unable to see how Nino is okay with choosing a room in a dorm full of teenagers, over him.

Nino emerges not long after, looking as if nothing has happened, and plops himself in a chair to play the latest Dragon Quest.  

Aiba, Ohno and Jun do their best not to tiptoe around them, interacting with them as normally as possible.

Sho and Nino actually succeed at keeping things professional, which takes an immense toll on Sho mentally, and when he gets home that night and plays the recording of the broadcast on his DVR, Sho notes that their on-stage banter sounds forced, their smiles too polished.

Sho picks up his phone, taps the dial icon. His thumb hovers over Nino’s name, but pride stands in the way of the call.

Sho isn’t great at admitting he’s wrong when he’s wrong, but he doesn’t think he’s wrong this time, which makes it even harder. He might be lacking understanding, he might be behaving like a clingy boyfriend, but there’s nothing wrong in wanting to rise to the occasion for Nino, providing him with an arrangement that’s appropriate for his circumstances.

Still, he knows that at the end of the day, harping on how he thinks his proposal is better than what Nino has decided on doesn’t justify his intent; he’s still failing to respect Nino’s wishes regarding the matter. That’s a fault, and he has to admit it.

He hesitates for a moment longer before making the call.

Nino doesn’t pick up, and he’s directed to voice mail.

Sho wonders if it was intentional, then feels guilty for entertaining that thought. Nino is anything but petty; he shouldn’t doubt that, at least. He wonders if he should call again, or perhaps send a text. This is the part of relationships that he isn’t a fan of.

He’s about to put down his phone when it buzzes. It’s Nino, and he quickly picks up the call.

“Hey, Sho-chan. Sorry about just now. I was asleep in the car, Yone and Juri-chan just dropped me off at the dorm.”

Sho relaxes at Nino’s tone of voice, relieved that Nino didn’t ignore his call on purpose. “I’m guessing you just finished late-night viewings?”

“Yeah. Didn’t go too well, though. I’ll be looking at more apartments tomorrow morning.”

Sho decides to cut to the chase. “Nino, I’m sorry.”

“For what happened today?” Nino punctuates his question with a sigh. “Because if you are, then I’m sorry too. I chose my words poorly. I didn’t mean for it to sound like what I do is none of your business.”

“Well, I feel like I overreacted to you choosing to stay at the dorm instead of my home. It’s really not a big deal, I see it now.”

Nino takes a pause before he speaks again. “I’m thinking about why I chose to be here at the dorm, and why staying at your place doesn’t appeal to me more. With its connotations of sex and companionship, it really should.” Sho can hear the wonder in Nino’s voice, genuine and questioning. “I think I might have convinced myself that I need to treat both options as equal.”

Sho quirks an eyebrow. “You _convinced_ yourself?”

“See, I’m still trying to find a balance when it comes to interacting with you outside of work—you’re so many things to me now that I sometimes find it hard to decide how I should be with you. I love that we have this casual atmosphere about us, but I don’t want to end up taking you for granted because I’ve become so comfortable around you. It’s like—I want to be myself around you, but I’m still figuring out how far I should go, and how far you’ll let me.”

Sho feels a lot better now that they’re hashing this out. “I get it. But I don’t think you need my permission to be who you want to be with me; I think you should go as far as you want, and I’ll accept whatever comes my way while letting you know what I’m uncomfortable with. Like, if you eat your boogers, I’ll tell you in a heartbeat that I think it’s disgusting, but I’m not going to judge. I might not be able to kiss you for a while, though.”

“You never know. My boogers may be super clean and tasty.”

Sho makes a face. “Then I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”

“This is becoming a really brainless conversation.”

They debate on the cleanliness of boogers for a while longer, then Sho gives a shuddering yawn and Nino decides they should really end the call and go to bed. Sho says bye and waits for Nino to say it back. He’s taking longer than usual.

Finally, Nino speaks. “Give me some time, Sho-chan.”

“Time? What for?”

“I’m still finding my way to you.”

Sho feels a stirring in his heart. “You know, one of the things I love most about you is your eloquence.”

“Yeah. I love that bit about me too.”

Sho laughs. “You have no shame.”

“I’m sorry; ‘shame’? I’ll have to look that word up.”

This sends Sho into a fit of laughter.

“Sho-chan, again, I love how our conversations are endless, but it’s past one. We really should be resting up for tomorrow. It’s gonna be another long day.”

“You’re right. Okay. Thanks for hearing me out tonight. I was worried that you were frustrated at me being overeager or controlling, so I’m relieved to know it’s not that.”

There’s a pronounced silence.

“You’re neither, Sho-chan, and I’m very lucky to have you.”

Something in Nino’s voice tells Sho that this is bordering on a confession, and Sho can’t really put a finger on it, but it’s mysterious, somehow.

Sho closes his eyes, imagines Nino close. “I’m very lucky to have you too. See you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah. Good night.”

***

After Aiba’s birthday party Nino discreetly gets into a taxi and heads to Sho’s place as planned. He arrives earlier than Sho and has to wait in the lobby because he has no key card, and when Sho meets him, apologetic and still quite intoxicated, all Nino does is to ask for his phone. Sho hands it over, wonders what Nino is up to.

As they walk to the elevator Nino pulls out a gadget from his pocket and places it against Sho’s phone. The web browser opens, showing him a set of instructions for a Key Sync. Nino then scans the gadget on his own phone, hits a button, and in a few moments both the screens are showing the same _Success!_ page. Satisfied, he returns the phone to Sho.

“I’ve just authorised your access to my new place,” Nino explains.

“Wow, you can unlock your door with your phone?”

“Cool, huh?”

“Very.” Sho looks down at his screen, blinks as the meaning of it sinks in. “Wait—so you just gave me the key to your apartment?”

Nino answers with a grin.

Sho finds him maddeningly handsome and impossibly romantic.

They arrive on the 11th floor and Sho wordlessly tugs Nino past the door, hits the switch for the heating, starts undressing him. Nino gasps in fake horror as Sho throws his cap on the floor.

“That’s my favourite one! It’s from Jun-kun!”

Sho doesn’t even look up from the zipper of Nino’s jacket. “I’m sure he won’t mind. Take off your shoes.”

Nino laughs and laughs, and kisses him.

They leave the entryway, and Sho attempts the feat of walking backwards while hugging Nino around the waist, nuzzling his neck as they head for the living room. They stumble once, and Nino says, laughing:

“Hubris, Sakurai. You’re no acrobat.”

Sho responds by grunting and crashing his mouth upon Nino’s as he fumbles to unbutton Nino’s pants.

 _Hubris._ Sho loves how Nino uses his vocabulary at times like these; it’s almost like he’s showing off, performing for Sho in their own parlance. Nino needs to know how hot that is _right now_. Fuck articulacy.

“God, Sho-chan, let me breathe.” Nino puts a hand on Sho’s chest, hitting pause. “Someone’s really horny tonight.”

Sho kicks off his own pants. “You just gave me a spare key and used a big word. There’s no going back. You’ve pressed all my buttons.”

Nino laughs. “Your buttons are ridiculously easy.”

They get to the sofa, and Sho pulls Nino down onto his lap.

“Merry Christmas.” Sho starts removing Nino’s shirt, celebrating the undoing of every button by pressing a kiss against Nino’s chest.

“Wait, what? _You’re_ what I’m getting for Christmas?”

“Is there a problem?” asks Sho.

“Well, I did give you my apartment key.”

“So? I’ll give you five of mine.”

Nino bursts out laughing. “You can’t really be my present, Sho-chan. I _have_ you already. ”

Sho pretends to consider. “Fine. You might find several items from your Amazon wish-list by the bed.”

There is a beat. Nino draws back very slowly.

“You’re serious?”

“Yeah.”

“I was just kidding. You spoil me, really. You didn’t have to.”

Sho holds Nino’s gaze. There’s fondness in Nino’s eyes along with the surprise. Sho smiles as he circles his arms around Nino’s hips. “Zukkun?”

“Yes?”

“Let’s fuck.”

Nino groans and covers his eyes with his hand. “I see I’m having a real classy Christmas this year.”

Sho laughs into their kiss.


	6. Chapter 6

There's a rumour on the internet that Sho and Nino are dating, backed up by photos taken by citizen paparazzi on Sho’s birthday of the two of them outside a restaurant, standing very close. The management turns a blind eye to it—they were just _standing together_ , seriously—but the Ohno/Nino shippers are furious that it’s even a thing. They stage a Twitter and Instagram campaign, making _#ohmiya_ trend for a whole day in Japan and half an hour worldwide. It’s pretty epic even though the tag gets abused by confused Saitama residents who are psyched that their city is trending, and Akatsuki themselves have a lot of fun monitoring the posts in the van as they travel to Kanagawa for a commercial shoot.

“Oh, God. Check out ‘Ohmiya Is Real’. These people are hilarious, but I think we can actually sue some of them,” Aiba says, reaching across the space between their seats to show Sho his phone.

Sho doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry when he sees pictures of Nino and Ohno’s heads being photoshopped onto bodies of couples. Though none of them can be mistaken for real photos, Sho feels jealous in an awkward, _why-isn’t-that-me_ kind of way.

He looks at Nino, who’s busy upgrading his _Lords of the Fallen_ protagonist on his Shield Portable but unmistakably still in tune with what’s going on.

Friendly touches are all they give each other at work; even the way they address each other is different—in private, Sho calls Nino by some variation of his first name, and Nino tends to jokingly call Sho ‘Sakurai’, because it’s never not ‘Sho-chan’ at work. Sho actually welcomes it, calls it their ‘platonic mode’, thinks it helps draw very clear lines as to where their private lives start and end. And he’s not exactly bothered about Ohno—he knows that Nino and Ohno will always have a special relationship and he respects that, though he still finds himself jealous sometimes.

Sho guesses they must have talked about it because they’ve toned the physical contact down several notches, more so when he’s around, but there’s still a feeling of malaise when he notices them whispering and laughing with each other or napping on each other’s laps. He understands that they can only do so because they’re completely uninvolved romantically, but that makes it even more plain that Sho and Nino can’t go that far, since they’re actually together, and it might make everyone feel like a third wheel again.

“Sho-kun.” A voice interrupts Sho’s thoughts, and Sho realises Ohno has come to sit beside him.

“Ultimately it’s just a joke, but I feel really guilty,” Ohno says under his breath so no one else hears, save Jun who is sitting right in front of Sho. As he hears Ohno speak, Jun bends forward to engage their managers in conversation, giving Sho and Ohno some privacy. 

Sho knows Ohno is talking about the Ohmiya campaign. “It’s okay, Satoshi-kun. I ship you guys too, remember? Plus you can be our red herring.” Sho grins at this thought.

Ohno, however, seems to be taking it seriously. “You mean like a distraction? Yeah, I can totally be that.”

“…I was joking.”

“Oh.” Ohno laughs softly. “I’d do it, though. Until I get married or something.”

“I know.” Sho smiles warmly back at Ohno.

Ohno watches Sho for a brief second, then turns in his seat to face the row behind them. “Nino, get over here.”

Nino looks up from his console. “Why?”

“Sit beside Sho-kun.” Ohno vacates the seat beside Sho, who looks on curiously, as does everyone who’s listening in.

“We’re in a moving vehicle!” Nino protests.

“Hurry up,” Ohno insists, and Nino grumbles and pauses his game before worming his way to Sho.

The van stops at a light, and Ohno takes the chance to arrange them, just like he’d done several months ago at the piano in the studio, and Sho finds his head resting on Nino’s shoulder.

Ohno goes to the row where Jun is sitting and kneels on a seat, facing Sho and Nino, poised with his phone. “Act natural,” Ohno advises. “Nino, play your game or something.”

“I think he’s trying to make this pairing real,” Nino says in a stage whisper.

“You mean _pseudo-real_ ,” Sho says back, mimicking Nino’s tone, and they crack up over the inside joke.

Ohno snaps a picture, appraising it. He shows it to Jun, who juts out his lip, nodding in impressed approval.

“It’s upped on Insta,” Ohno announces after a few seconds, and he twists to plop himself beside Jun, looking pleased with himself.

Curious, Sho gets out his phone and refreshes their Instagram page. He starts smiling when he sees the picture, and Nino leans in to look at it too.

Sho and Nino have been captured mid-laugh: Sho’s neck is arched, his eyes squeezed shut in mirth; Nino’s face is scrunched up as he tries not to double over at Sho’s joke.

 _How did you guys find out my OTP?!_ , reads Ohno’s caption.

It’s a simple thing that Ohno has done, but Sho is moved. This isn’t inclusion per se—that would be a weird, incestuous threesome—but being acknowledged as an extension of Ohno and Nino’s exclusivity makes Sho feel less invisible.

His relationship with Nino flies under the radar because of this member-love culture Akatsuki has built up around themselves, so even when it’s staring at people right in the face it’s still denied or passed over or lovingly made fun of. That’s actually the best thing that could happen—a luxury, in fact—for their current situation, but there’s a part of Sho that doesn’t fully embrace it, the part that wants to yell to the world that he and Nino are together for real.

And here Ohno is, outing them but not outing them, his ambition thrilling. Sho nervously looks at Nino—who has the most idiotic grin on his face as he double-taps the picture—and lets himself relax.

By now they’ve taken hundreds of pictures together, just the two of them, but this one that Ohno has taken is different. Through his lenses, from the eyes of someone who cares for them, who knows they’re a couple—it’s an admission of them being truly together.

And it doesn’t feel as scary as it should.

“Ooh, great shot, Leader,” Aiba calls, looking up from his own screen. He turns to Sho and Nino and aims his phone at them. “We should totally have you as our official second—” 

Aiba suddenly gasps and gives a loud clap, jabbing his finger at Nino with every syllable he utters.

“ _Slut Nino_!”

“The fuck did you just call me?” Nino says, appalled.

Everyone in the van laughs, including their four managers, but Aiba is looking very serious. “‘Show Your Mum This’ was really successful—you can’t deny my hashtag genius. We should totally launch a campaign. Next month’s February, we can do a Valentine’s Day collab; this will be so brilliant, I just know it.”

Aiba continues to chatter about his strategy for pairing Nino with every member and have Nino pick his ideal partner for a date, while Nino protests loudly about the hashtag, though he confesses he’s not opposed to the idea itself.

Sho assesses the atmosphere, decides it counts as appropriate for him to publicly show his affection for Nino, and gamely hugs Nino’s shoulders from behind as he listens. Nino automatically leans into him as he continues opposing Aiba.

It’s the first time they’re being so bold, though the untrained eye would never be able to see it. The way their managers are laughing and pointing is proof enough.

Then there is a camera shutter sound, and they discover Jun has taken a picture from the crack between his and Ohno’s seats so it looks like he’s spying on Sho and Nino. He looks very smug and announces:

“I’m posting this on Twitter!”

“Matsujun, use hashtag ‘Slut Nino’!”

“Don’t you dare!”

“Fine. It’s either that or ‘Nino Our King’.”

“Why is that the only other option?!”

“Would you rather have ‘Nino Our Queen’, then?”

“…Jun-kun, you fucking enabler.”

“I’ve got it—how about ‘Nino Is The Sex’!”

“Leader, I’m grateful you came up with ‘Akatsuki’, but that? No offence, but _so_ junior high.”

“Oh, oh! How about ‘Valentino’? You know, Valentine’s. _Nino_.”

“…Satoshi-kun, if you ever have kids, please let your wife choose their names.”

“That’s hurtful, Sho-chan.”

“You guys!” Aiba claps, getting everyone’s attention. “Come on. ‘Slut Nino’. Trust me.”

It’s all so silly and awesome, and Sho chortles as Nino compromises on _#slutking_ (at least it doesn’t include his name), eventually whipping out his own phone for a selfie. He presses his face against Sho’s and asks him to close his eyes so he looks blissful, and just before he does Sho sees the others get ready their cameras so they can take a photo of Nino taking a photo. It’s ridiculous.

“Don’t _grin_ , Sho-chan, look serene.”

“Hey—why is mine taking so long? Oh, it’s on timer.”

“A wild ojisan appears! It’s a Leader!”

“A couple years ago I’d have said ‘no, it’s oniisan!’ but now I’m just, yeah, whatever.”

“Guys, could you open your eyes—oh my God, look at this new Snapchat filter!”

“USE IT.”

Sho’s laugh soars. They’re crazy, and they’re all his.

***

In the new year, Akatsuki experiences a surge in mainstream projects as they barrel forward with their group activities, and they finally hand over the YouTube work to the agency’s in-house production team, though they still come up with the video ideas. This frees up a lot of their evenings, and for Sho, it means he gets to spend time with Nino, sometimes with the others, sometimes on his own, and find out loads about Nino that he doesn’t know.

Like the time Nino was gifted a slab of raw tuna by a rakugo comedian he’d become friends with. He gave it to Aiba instead, who cheered and went home to make negitoro. Sho didn’t read too much into it—he just assumed Nino didn’t fancy it—until they all guested on a gourmet tour programme a few days later and Nino was put in a position where he couldn’t decline sashimi. That night, Sho couldn’t reach Nino on his phone and worriedly ran the 20 blocks to Nino’s apartment, only to find Nino hugging the toilet and groaning. Sho stayed over to take care of him and gently chide him for not refusing the food, but Nino said they were just starting out in the business, the programme was airing at primetime, it wasn’t something he could just say no to.

To the Akatsuki group chat Sho sent a picture of Nino, pale and curled up in bed, with the caption:

_A.k.a, why Nino only orders chawanmushi when we go for sushi._

There are also other things Sho discovers about Nino’s physiology.

Everyone has noticed that Nino’s joints pop audibly. Though he insists it doesn’t hurt, they’ve gotten worried about it and have had him consult a doctor, but all his tests have come out fine, though he’s recommended to improve his posture.

Everyone is pacified except Sho, and for a good reason.

Unlike the other members (for whom Nino’s Slut King powers are completely fictional), Sho actually gets to have sex with Nino. He’s still working on not flinching or apologising every time he’s responsible for a creak in Nino’s knees or a crack in his hips. It makes Sho feel guilty because doesn’t want to come across like he has a problem with how Nino’s body is.

Nino, however, is incredibly patient and open, and the moment he realised Sho was distracted by the noises his joints were making he gave the following advice:

“Don’t think. Just fuck.”

Nino is also not a fan of bugs, and once while Sho was staying over and Nino was in the bath, he heard Nino curse loudly, and there was a great gushing sound accompanied by: “THERE’S A FUCKING COCKROACH IN HERE.”

Sho valiantly flung open the door, shrieked as he saw said cockroach flying around the bathroom, and he’d almost shut Nino in with the cockroach again when Nino slid across the tiles and slammed the door shut behind them, scowling at Sho for his attempted abandonment.

They had a few odd-numbered rounds of janken to see who was going in to vanquish their unsanitary foe, but when Sho warily entered the bathroom it wasn’t there anymore. There was a vent in the ceiling it had probably escaped through (and come in from—Sho’s postulate), so Nino did eventually return to his bath, only to pull the drain plug and find a smaller cockroach hiding inside a cranny of the bathtub, so technically he had bathed with it.

As he turned on the shower to wash himself again, Nino laughed the saddest, sorriest laugh Sho had ever heard.

These mundane, everyday things in Nino’s life—there’s a magic in their casual privacy, and Sho loves playing witness to them. But it’s not all smooth-sailing; this closeness means Sho finds out about Nino’s insecurities as well.

It’s April, the season of meetings and partings, and they are to release a series of online videos on this motif. They’ve vlogged their respective encounters—Sho met up with his friends from university, Nino went to visit his sister’s family in Fukuoka, Jun got a bunch of baristas together and they nerded out about coffee, Aiba went back to Chiba and visited his homeroom teacher from junior high, and Ohno’s was a bit special because he tried locating the guys who’d danced with him during his stint as a teenage idol.

The videos are released over the course of two weeks, and Sho’s comes out during a location shoot that only he and Nino are on. On the bus back to Tokyo, Nino watches the clip and asks:

“You guys close?”

Sho isn’t sure how to answer. Nino’s pointing to Asami, one of his earliest acquaintances in university and incidentally, Sho’s first girlfriend. They drifted apart and broke up amicably, but he did lose his virginity to her, and it’s awkward having to think about all these things in front of Nino, who’s watching Sho and Asami bantering and looking very chummy in the video.

But failing to respond proves to be a bad idea, because Nino sees through Sho’s discomfort and turns sullen. He seethes for the rest of the ride, his goodbye clipped when they split up for the evening’s individual assignments. Sho feels dejection sink in. He knows there’s something to fix.

He goes to Nino’s home after he’s done with his recording, finds Nino in the kitchen. Cigarette butts are strewn all over the sink, and Nino is finishing up another stick.

Sho confesses that Asami is an ex. Nino is furious that Sho couldn’t tell him from the get-go, and Sho too loses his temper because he doesn’t understand why Nino isn’t trusting him. Nino snaps back that he sometimes worries about having to compete with not only the men but also the women in Sho’s life, and Sho suddenly feels like a fool for not addressing this sooner.

When dealing with personal affairs and matters of the heart Nino is constantly understanding and generous (in fact, between the two of them, Sho is definitely more susceptible to jealousy) but, as Sho now realises belatedly, it doesn’t mean Nino never gets jealous.

One thing they've promised each other and the group is to solve any problems within the day they occur. This usually means that one of them backs down and says sorry first, before the other crumbles and they become calm enough to analyse what went wrong and how they can avoid it the next time.

This argument, however, is a little more sensitive, and both of them are finding it hard to be the bigger man.

Nino is the one who breaks the silence.

“I’m not saying you’re not committed to this. I’m saying that commitment doesn’t change who you’re attracted to. I can’t give you what a woman can. That’s what watching you and her in that video made me realise, and that’s what’s making me upset.”

Nino’s breathing is even, but Sho can see his knuckles turning white as he clenches his fist atop the kitchen counter.

“I don’t miss it,” Sho tries to sound reassuring as he comes up to Nino, wanting to touch him but not daring to.

“Yes, but will it always be this way?” The look on Nino’s face is undecipherable.

“Kazu-kun...” This argument is enervating; Sho doesn’t know where Nino is going with it. “You said it yourself—it’s better to be rooting for us than to be wondering if we would ever break up.”

There is a long silence. Nino blinks in quick succession, his eyes uncharacteristically wet, and then tells Sho about his ex.

With the way Nino presents himself, Sho would never had guessed that Nino had been deep in the closet for ages until his first venture to a gay bar where he met this guy whom he was completely smitten by; and the guy, initially charming and attentive and loving, turned out to be a possessive, controlling asshole after they moved in together.

He’d been Nino’s first _everything_ : the first person he felt completely accepted by, the first person he fell so hard for, but had changed somewhere along the way and became the culprit who filled Nino with so much hurt he didn’t have room for anything else in his heart for a long time.

Sho’s had the impression that Nino is terrified of change, but now he finally knows why, and he finally knows how much. At first he’s livid; he wants to hunt down Nino’s ex and _destroy_ him.

But then Sho has a thought, an ugly one, and he struggles to push it away because it is wrong, but jealousy is a stubborn emotion. It bursts forth and manifests itself as he asks:

“Was there… anyone, after him?”

As the words fall from his lips, Sho feels shame, its dead weight dropping unpleasantly into his gut. It isn’t necessary for him to know; asking had merely stemmed from his desperate, selfish need for it to be him.

And Nino knows exactly what Sho is thinking, because Nino hunches over the counter, hiding his face, shoulders heaving as he sighs.

Sho knows it’s too late to make an apology. He wonders if Nino hates this part of him, this obsessive need to know, this zeal for _owning_ , this claim that he’s trying to stake on Nino. He wonders if Nino sees his ex in him, and hates the very thought of it.

Nino finally says:

“If you’re asking about sex—one very regrettable fling. If you’re asking about relationships, well.”

Nino lifts his eyes to meet Sho’s.

The pain Sho is experiencing is partly vicarious; it’s the combination of Nino’s past loneliness and the hurt that he’s reading in Nino’s face, and a great disappointment in himself. He’s been indulged with the information that the only person Nino has let into his once-locked heart is him and him alone, but he feels like he extorted it from Nino; mingling with the joy of his triumph is the repugnant sting of guilt.

Sho doesn’t know how to mend this.

Seconds lapse into minutes, and they just stand there, looking at each other. They know this isn’t a fight, not anymore.

“There’s this distance…” Sho starts clumsily, letting loose the words that finally surface. He gestures to the space between them, though he’s not referring to it. “I’ve put this distance between us. I want to bridge it. Will you tell me how?”

Sho’s thunderous heartbeat—it drums madly in his ears, pounds against his throat. He’s afraid that Nino doesn’t have the answer. At this point, it won’t even be out of the ordinary if Nino asks him to leave.

Then Nino reaches out to place his palm on the nape of Sho’s neck, bringing them closer. Sho takes in the scent of tobacco on Nino’s breath, the tremor in his lower lip, the unshed tears. 

“Like this,” Nino whispers, touching their foreheads together.

Sho’s heart aches. There’s so much that he wants to say, that he _should_ say, but none of it needs to be said. Nino’s words are enough ransom.

Nino holds onto Sho, closes his eyes. “While I've never treated this relationship lightly, nor do I think our feelings should be quantified, I finally see that right from the very beginning, you probably loved me with a ferocity I’ll never be able to comprehend. You keep _giving_ , you’re always putting me first.

“The first time you kissed me: you were already thinking about leaving the group to be with me. And that time you called me from Rio—I was really, really touched, and it gave me the push to take a step towards you.

“At the same time, I think a part of me saw it as a way I could set things right, to redeem myself, to see if I could do this relationship thing again. In all honesty, I didn't even know I wanted to, until I met you. You gave me a chance and I took it.” Nino draws a shuddering breath. “But that’s no excuse—I feel like I’ve used you as a self-improvement tool, and I’m sorry.”

“No,” Sho is quick to protest, “you didn’t. I’ve never felt used.”

“No matter. It’s not like that now, that I can assure you. I genuinely want us to work _for_ us, and I think I’m ready.” Nino looks straight into Sho’s eyes, unblinking. “To love you properly, I mean. No holds barred.”

Sho wasn’t expecting this. He hasn’t even apologised to Nino for the audacity of his earlier question, and yet here Nino was, baring his heart to him. Sho isn’t sure he deserves it. He dips his head, swallows, tries very hard not cry.

Nino's hand falls onto Sho's shoulder. “If you could teach me to love, Sho-chan, I will learn.”

There is a great conviction Sho hears in Nino's words. He’s always thought of Nino as brave—it showed in his approach to becoming an idol, in coming out to the management and to the members of Akatsuki—but today, as they are made privy to their most concealed feelings, Sho finally understands the extent of Nino’s courage and resilience, and with it his fragility.

He feels humbled to be allowed to love such a man.

Sho takes both of Nino’s hands and grips them tightly. “I won’t try to own you,” promises Sho fiercely.

“I know.” Nino smiles for the first time that evening. “But I’ll let you have me.”

***

Today is the first day of a rare weekend off for the group, and Sho has decided to do something he’ll never do if it wasn't for Nino.

Sho lets himself into Nino’s house at eight in the morning and makes a beeline for the games. It takes a while before he locates the one he’s looking for.

Very quietly, he opens Nino’s bedroom door; he treads softly across the room and crouches beside the bed. He’s about to poke Nino’s cheek with the _Intrepid Dragon Hunters_ box but stops as he realises how breathtaking Nino is when he’s asleep. He peers down at Nino, taking in the curve of his lips, the dip of his nose bridge, the sparseness of his lashes.

Sho tries to memorise it all.

“…You’re doing that thing again,” Nino suddenly says, eyes still closed. “Creepy.”

“Crap, you scared me!”

Nino laughs. “You’re noisy. I could hear you scrabbling at the games shelf.”

Sho makes a disgruntled face. It’s just like Nino to know he’s there, no matter how quiet he’s tried to be.

“Let’s play, Zukkun,” sings Sho, changing tactics, pouncing on Nino to squish his face. Nino makes a whining noise and flails his arms, adamantly keeping his eyes shut, but Sho doesn’t release him.

“Unhand me, you oaf.”

“Not without payment,” says Sho, hovering above Nino’s face, pressing their noses together. (They started playing this game recently; Nino always lets him win.)

Nino opens his eyes, his lips quirking. “Such debauchery. Seriously, though—go away before I murder you with my dragon breath.”

Sho persists in staring back. “I’m not asking for one of those open-mouthed panting ones. Come on. Pay up.”

Nino rolls his eyes but sure enough, gives him a peck on the lips. Sho knows his reluctance is just for show. Satisfied, Sho falls back on his haunches, playfully flinging Nino back onto the pillows, announcing that he is now free.

Nino squints at the clock. “Isn’t your ski trip today?”

Sho grins and climbs onto the bed. He crosses his legs atop Nino’s blankets and dances the game in front of him. “There’s no trip. I’ve been planning this for days—I knew you’d start gaming the moment you got up so I came here early. Hope you don’t mind that we play this one, though.”

Nino cocks his head to one side, a grin creeping across his face as he studies Sho. “I thought you didn't like games?”

“I don’t, but you do.”

Something in Nino’s eyes shifts, and he sighs Sho’s name softly. It’s still chilly in the mornings; he grabs the covers before climbing into Sho’s lap and cocoons them both in fabric.

Their gazes lock. Sho feels a warmth rising in his chest, understanding that all the appreciation and fondness and tenderness in Nino’s eyes is for him and him only.

“So, Kazugamer. Shall we embark on our intrepid virtual journey?” asks Sho, smiling.

Nino curls into himself so he can press his cheek against Sho’s neck, tracing Sho’s jawline with the tip of his nose. Sho finds it all very cute and sweet until Nino leans back dramatically and shakes his shoulders from side to side, saying:

“Not till you make passionate love to me, Sakurai-kun.”

Sho snorts and shoves Nino off his lap, but Nino is still holding on to the blanket so they tumble together; Sho ends up on top of Nino, who grins lazily as he circles his arms around Sho’s neck. Sho rolls his eyes as Nino proceeds to look coy, batting his eyelids. He gives his shoulders one more shake.

“Yeah, that’s really getting me turned on. You keep at it.”

Nino lets out a shout of laughter. Sho is amused at how much mirth his own words invite, but he’s also thrilled that Nino is happy, and that he’s the reason why.

Then he feels a sudden looseness around his waist. He looks down to see Nino has undone the button on his pants. 

“Such debauchery,” Sho teases, shaking his head. Nino was only half-joking about the request for sex.

“Come on, Sakurai—there’s morning wood right here for the taking.” Nino starts _grinding_ up against him, then there’s a loud pop.

Their eyes turn wide.

“Fucking joints,” Nino swears, and then they start to laugh. Sho collapses on Nino, breathless and tearing, and just when they calm down there’s a subtle, almost inaudible click from Nino’s shoulder.

They look at each other for a beat, and they lose it again.

***

Ever since that night they talked in the kitchen, they’ve become a lot more open with each other, and Nino has revealed that his relationship with his ex had been very sexual right to the day they broke up—it made for a sense of dread and unhappiness he couldn’t dissociate with certain situations.

Sho had guessed as much, said they could continue avoiding them altogether if that’s what Nino wanted, but Nino pointed out that with Sho, he’d never once felt like his preferences were not respected, and he would continue to trust Sho to maintain that as they ‘conquered new bedroom frontiers’.

That’s how Sho and Nino find themselves in Sho’s bed, in the first days of summer, hours before work is due to start, trying something new.

Sho gasps as Nino takes him, fills him partway, and he automatically clutches Nino's thigh.

“Does it hurt?” Nino sounds alarmed. “Do you want me to—”

“I’m fine.” Sho takes Nino’s wrist and wraps Nino’s arm around his waist. “I’m just surprised. Like, this-is-definitely-not-a-toy surprised.”

Nino laughs in spite of himself. “If you’re uncomfortable, Sho-chan…”

“We had, what, forty minutes of foreplay? I couldn’t be more prepped.”

Nino chuckles into Sho’s shoulder. “Sorry. Where do we go from here?”

Sho considers this for a moment. “Push.”

Nino complies, and as Sho hunches slightly to back into Nino he hears Nino’s breath hitch in the back of his throat before it’s expressed in a rush of air.

Hearing Nino breathe like that makes _all_ of Sho’s blood rush south, and he’s quite giddy as Nino brings a leg up over his, touching his lips to the base of Sho’s hairline, pressing kisses across the nape of his neck.

Nino then sighs on his skin, and Sho can’t help but reach out, wanting to touch—he cups the back of Nino’s head, threads his fingers in his hair, finds it damp with perspiration.

“Fuck, how are you this hot?” asks Nino, breathless.

Sho can’t help but feel smug. “My rehearsals paid off, I see.”

“You’re calling your filthy Google history and the repeated abuse of your army of toys _rehearsals_?”

“Worthy investments—hang on, _ah_ ,” Sho pants as he feels something give. He adjusts himself around Nino instinctively, prompting another small gasp from Nino as they finally fit—perfectly.

Then he feels Nino tense up behind him.

“Listen. Anytime you need to stop, you just let me know, okay?”

It’s quite uncharacteristic of Nino to be fussing—and at a time like this, no less—but Sho gets it. He knows where all this worry is coming from. Sho thinks about how to really put Nino at ease, remembers the last time one of them had reservations during sex, and pats Nino’s leg comfortingly.

“Don’t think. Just fuck.”

Nino laughs. “God, I love you so much.”

Sho lets his head fall back against Nino’s shoulder so their mouths can meet; Nino’s kisses come surprisingly languid, his touches light. His hands are free to roam, and Sho shuts his eyes, savouring every sensation, every sound Nino makes against his lips.

It’s a lot slower than what they’re used to, but they’ve talked about it, agreed on the pace, and Sho has never trusted someone so wholly, never felt this safe, this _loved_.

At Sho’s request, Nino wraps his slick fingers around him and drives in deep.

Nino once said this isn’t the be-all and end-all of their intimacy, and Sho agrees, he really does, but it’s a pretty great kind of sex nonetheless.

“Kazu,” calls Sho despairingly, breath quickening, rocking his hips as Nino starts stroking to a rhythm on both ends.

“Sho,” comes Nino’s desperate answer, and Sho finds it incredibly hot, letting out a moan to tell him so.

When Nino shifts his weight and grips Sho’s shoulders and asks for _permission to pound_ (gentleman or cruel tease? Sho really can’t tell sometimes), Sho is too busy sending himself into a blinding orgasm to use words and instead, reaches behind them to shove Nino’s ass forward. It makes Nino cry out in a way Sho has rarely heard in their 10 months together; he can’t help but feel proud of himself.

After they finish, they lie there; sticky and sated and sweaty, heartbeats slowing, fingers interlocked—then the lube bottle slides down Sho’s pillow, its corner poking him painfully in the eye, and Nino hurls it across the room, calling it a ‘hazardous piece of shit’ as he massages Sho’s eyelid.

Sho splits his sides laughing. He thinks this is a rather perfect way to start the day.


	7. Chapter 7

Sho invites his parents to Akatsuki’s first anniversary concert at the Budokan and surprisingly they attend, though he suspects it’s out of pure curiosity than anything else.

As they pass the _Authorised Personnel Only_ door, they get quite excited about seeing the Budokan from an area they’ve never seen before. They’re complete geeks, Sho realises, as Sho’s father starts dropping several bits of trivia about the Budokan’s history and his mother chimes in about its architecture. Sho points out that they’re here to watch him perform, not admire the Budokan, and they actually go, “Oh right…”, which makes Sho roll his eyes and look to Nino for affirmation.

He’d (casually) asked Nino to come with him with all sorts of ulterior motives, and though Nino had been reluctant at first (“Can’t Aiba-san or Jun-kun go instead? They’re the type parents like,” and if Aiba hadn’t interjected: “Sure, I’ll totally be pointing you out and saying ‘That’s the one, your son’s boyfriend!’”, Nino wouldn’t have changed his mind) he’s now obviously enjoying himself, lips twitching like crazy, evidently resisting the urge to make an apple-doesn’t-fall-far-from-the-tree comment.

Sho actually really likes his parents, and he knows Nino would too. That’s one of the reasons he wants Nino to be here. They aren’t cool, not in the conventional sense of the word, but they’re clever and funny. They can be opinionated and obstinate, and are always quick to express their disapproval, but they’ve never really stopped him from doing anything, nor have they withheld any praise for Sho’s successes. He’s always been able to make his own choices and his own mistakes, and his parents reconciled any reservations they had with a time-will-tell attitude. And because Sho has no siblings, they were able to channel every resource into his education, share with him every shred of knowledge they possessed, to make him what he is today. He loves them for that, even though he guesses they haven’t completely accepted that Sho left his journalist job to be an entertainer.

Nino is charming, very charming, as he listens to Sho’s parents drop a few more facts about the design of the Budokan, nodding at all the right places, asking the perfect questions. Sho feels like he might burst with pride.

They wave to Ohno, who’s bringing his own family on a tour of the inner workings of their show, and Ohno’s niece covers her mouth and ducks behind Ohno when Sho tries to meet her eyes and smile.

“Sakurai-kun has a lot of fans,” Nino duly informs Sho’s parents as they continue walking. “They mostly like him for his body and brains, as do I.”

Sho’s eyes turn wide at Nino’s bold choice of words, but his parents crack up. Nino mouths ‘I love them’, angling his head in their direction, and Sho’s heart swells.

In the green room they get introduced to Aiba and Jun, and they’ve started a conversation about pyrotechnics when some TV producers enter to say hi, and one of them who’s married to a lawyer recognises Sho’s dad, and that’s when they all find out he’s the Dean of the Faculty of Law at the University of Tokyo. Nino is the only one who knows, the only one whose jaw doesn’t drop.

Sho has always told people his dad is a ‘professor’, but never elaborated on his specialty or his place of work because he was afraid his dad didn’t want people knowing that Sho was now an idol. But here was the older Sakurai, fishing out business cards and asking to be in favour and thanking them for looking after his son, and Sho suddenly feels very relieved, and he’s certain it shows because his mother takes one look at him before going over to show him the _uchiwa_ that’s in her bag; it has his face on it, and all she says is:

“Dad has one too.”

Later, when it’s just the five of them in the greenroom and they’re 30 minutes to showtime, Aiba realises out loud that Sho is actually elite after all, and crosses the room to give him a bone-crushing hug.

“Thank you for choosing us!” Aiba wails, and Sho pats his back, tells him not to ruin his hair and make-up, then suddenly he is hugged from behind, and it’s Ohno, and Ohno is _crying_ , oh God, it makes Sho want to cry too, all these first anniversary emotions. He looks to Jun and Nino for help, but Nino is busy ratting on Ohno and Aiba to the makeup team, yelling for someone to come save them, while Jun grins as he walks over to gather them all in his arms, his own eyes unmistakably misty.

“This is so going on our Instagram,” Nino says decidedly. He grabs his phone off his dressing table, makes sure the huddle is in the background, puts on a silly face and snaps a picture.

***

_First day of our NO OSSAN, NO AKATSUKI? live, and 30 minutes before the curtain these dorks get all emotional over Sakurai being with us today._

_But I’m sure some of you out there are emotional too—you know, the guy almost remained a journalist!!_

_I’m glad I met him.  
I’m glad I met them._

_I’ll follow you guys till the end!!  
Let’s create a wonderful atmosphere tonight for everyone who’s come to see us._

_—Kazu_

***

_#Akatsuki turns one today! Happy birthday to us, happy birthday to you. It’s your fan-birthday too. Congratulations!_

_And… special thanks to Sho-kun. You all know why!_

_We perform at 6 PM. Our first live! RT to wish us luck!_

_Budokan Matsuri… DEI!_

_—Satoshi_

***

__  
**your name shouldn’t be Sho**  


_Jun: Hi guys. Jun-camera, live version. Check out how Sakurai Sho looks like before he has to fly on a wire._

_Sho: …Are you Snapchatting? Who gave him the phone —_

_Jun: Glad to witness this. Glad he’s here with us. Feel free to save these snaps and meme away._

***

_WHAT IS THIS, YOU ASK —_

_Presenting Aiba Masaki’s NO OSSAN, NO #AKATSUKI? MC segment—CLING WRAP KISSING CHALLENGE!!!!_

_Yes, this really happened at our Budokan live!_  
_Teaser featuring Sakurai Sho, because #ELITE!  
Visit YouTube.com/AkatsukiOFCL  & follow this account for more updates! RTs APPRECIATED!!!_

***

**Monthly Column: Entertainment First-hand**  
Issue 013  
featuring _Akatsuki_

_In lieu of the twin anniversaries of Akatsuki’s debut and Enta-Online’s launch, Entertainment First-hand presents to you its very first special edition—an exclusive crosstalk interview with the five members of Akatsuki, with questions contributed by the Akatsuki members themselves._

Sakurai Sho: The folks at Enta-Online have kindly given us this space for Akatsuki’s birthday month! It’s such an honour.

All: (clapping) Yeah!

Sakurai: I’m going to play both interviewer and interviewee today. Please take care of me.

Aiba Masaki: Super elite!

**_We met when everyone was at completely different stages of their idol pursuits. Some of us were thinking of quitting, some of us were just going with the flow, one of us was just there as a spectator at first. How has that changed for each of you?_ **

Sakurai: This question’s from me, by the way. Who wants to start first? Matsumoto-kun?

Matsumoto Jun: Me?! Hm… I don’t think anything has changed for me, personally, but Aiba-kun was our anchor in those days, wasn’t he?

Aiba: I was?!

Sakurai: (laughs) I know what you mean. Aiba-kun was the most knowledgeable about what being an idol entailed.

Matsumoto: Yeah. But Aiba-kun used to be a _chika_ idol, so it really makes sense he’d be the most idol-like.

Aiba: You know, I didn’t really think about it that much. I was just being myself.

Ninomiya Kazunari: I think I can say this now, and I’m not picking a fight or anything, but when I first met Aiba-kun I thought: “Wow, is this guy an idiot?”

All: (laughter)

Ninomiya: Because idiots are the types that barrel through without thinking about the consequences, right?

Aiba: I can’t tell if you’re complimenting me or putting me down.

Ninomiya: I’m trying to say you were very vocal about your idol identity right from the beginning. (laughs)

Ohno: There’s actually something… It’s kind of in the documentary, but there was a narration over it. I can talk about it, right?

Sakurai: Go on.

Ohno: That first rehearsal. I was a bit shocked when Aiba-kun told me straight up that my performance would affect everybody’s, and I had to buck up.

Aiba: (covers face) I’m so sorry, Leader…

Ohno: No, it was good for me.

Matsumoto: I remember that! After getting to know you I really can’t imagine you saying something like that to any of us. You’re so mindful of people’s feelings.

Sakurai: I agree. It doesn’t feel like something Aiba-kun would do.

Aiba: (sinks down into his chair, still covering his face) Ahhh…

Ninomiya: This guy, he sometimes acts differently when there’s a camera rolling, haven’t you all noticed?

All: (laughter)

Aiba: I can’t say it was that, though. I wasn’t pretending. It was just…

Sakurai: It was one of those things? In the heat of the moment?

Aiba: Yeah, I think so. I really wanted us to be successful.

Matsumoto: I think that was the first time any of us voiced our opinions frankly.

Aiba: Sorry, Leader!

Ohno: You know, I was happy that someone in the group was completely serious about being an idol. It really helped me.

Ninomiya: Jun-kun was completely serious about it too, right?

Matsumoto: Yes, but I didn’t go so far to say things like: “We’re going to storm the nation!”

All: (laughter)

Ninomiya: That’s why I thought he was an idiot!

Sakurai: But I think without that, we wouldn’t even have dared to imagine us as how we are now.

Matsumoto: Yeah. If not for Aiba-chan constantly being so insistent on his ambition and professing his love of being an idol, I don’t think I’d have been able to hang on, because… (silence)

Ninomiya: Because Sho-chan and I were kind of lukewarm, and Leader didn’t have much to offer?

All: (laughter)

Ninomiya: Readers, if you’re wondering who’s the member who wanted to ‘go with the flow’, that’s ultimately me. It’s probably still me.

Aiba: But you _do_ have a vision for Akatsuki. You don’t just wait around for things to happen.

Ninomiya: That’s because the flow has changed, don’t you think? And going with the flow doesn’t mean we’re freewheeling.

Aiba/Matsumoto/Ohno/Sakurai: (nodding) Ah…

Matsumoto: I guess you’re originally someone who adapts well to different situations. Originally amphibious.

Ninomiya: Well, I think we all are. Just different degrees.

Aiba: …Did Matsujun just call Nino a mermaid? (laughs)

Ninomiya: What’s with all the marine references? Anchors, mermaids…

Ohno: I like it!

Sakurai: Sure you would. (laughs) If we’re going with this theme, I think Matsujun’s our navigator.

Ohno: Oh! Spot on!

Aiba: He thinks about Akatsuki the most, right? Matsujun’s always thinking in very concrete terms about our direction.

Sakurai: And how to please our fans. He really treasures our fans.

Matsumoto: They’re a part of Akatsuki too.

Aiba/Ninomiya/Ohno/Sakurai: (cheering) Yo, Matsumoto! Nippon-ichi!

Ninomiya: He’s like our producer. Are you aiming for a management position at Joshima & Associates?

Matsumoto: (laughs) Of course not!

Aiba: So if I’m the anchor and you’re the navigator and Nino’s the mascot—

Ninomiya: Mascot?!

Aiba: —Leader’s leader, so he’s the captain of the ship! And Sho-chan’s…

Sakurai: I’ll be the janitor.

All: (laughter)

Aiba: You can’t be the janitor. You don’t like repetitive work that has no clear goal. We’ll be squatting in filth because you won’t be doing your job!

Ninomiya: Wait, why am I the mascot?!

All: (laughter)

Aiba: Because you’re the cutest!

Ninomiya: **Oh-chan’s** the cutest, I’m the most charismatic!

Ohno: No, Nino. You’re the cutest. Have you seen yourself sleeping? You haven’t, right?

Ninomiya: Who gets to see themselves sleeping?!

Sakurai: I have to go with Satoshi-kun on that one, Nino is adorable when he sleeps.

Ohno: Right??? He looks like an angel.

Aiba: A Japanese angel!

Sakurai: That doesn’t make sense!

All: (laughter)

Matsumoto: I need to admit this sooner or later anyway, so I’m just going to say it—I love your face, Nino. The shape of your jawline, to be exact. Also, you have a very nice nose.

Ninomiya: (explodes) What is going on?!

Sakurai: Just accept it and move on, Nino. You’re the mascot. My turn, guys. My turn! Tell me what maritime metaphor I am!

All: (laughter)

Matsumoto: Okay, I think Sho-kun’s our engineer. He knows how the business works. He’s got all the theory, he knows how to fix things.

Aiba/Ninomiya/Ohno: (agreeing) Yes! Engineer!

Sakurai: (laughs) I concede your point. Satoshi-kun, how about you? What do you think about being captain of the Akatsuki ship?

Ohno: …You know, you guys call me ‘Leader’, but to me it’s just a nickname! Just a nickname, seriously.

Aiba: No way! I think you’re a great leader. You’re so talented.

Sakurai: Yeah. And it’s because of that email you sent me that I decided to stay in Akatsuki.

Matsumoto: That! I’ve read about it in interviews but I never really understood the backstory.

Ohno: …What did I say again?

Ninomiya: Leader, I can’t believe you!

Sakurai: A day before the debut you said we’re going to be Akatsuki. You just stated it like fact, and I realised how you’d already known what my choice would be. You believed in me.

Ohno: Right, right. (laughs)

Ninomiya: (points at Ohno) Stop looking so smug!

Matsumoto: This is the first time I’m hearing this.

Aiba: Leader’s like this, isn’t he? The sort who’s dependable when you don’t expect him to be.

Sakurai: Secretly working in the background, right?

Matsumoto: I bet you rehearse for hours at home when nobody’s looking.

Ohno: Nah. I’m not that sneaky.

Aiba/Matsumoto/Ninomiya/Sakurai: You are, you so are!

_**Now, a year after our debut, we’ve released three singles, one documentary, one album, supported countless events, appeared on several TV programmes—the list goes on, and there’s more to come. What do you have to say about this?** _

Matsumoto: This one’s mine.

Ninomiya: I thought it’d be.

Sakurai: Ohno-kun, your thoughts?

Ohno: Well, I’m humbled, mostly. Very thankful.

Aiba: Leader, don’t cry now.

Ohno: You’re one to talk! And I’m not crying!

Matsumoto: I really think we couldn’t have done it without the support of the staff, the other Joshima & Associates artistes, the fans—both here in Japan and overseas—and our loved ones.

Aiba/Ninomiya/Ohno/Sakurai: Yeah…

Aiba: And the Internet! I’d really like to thank the Internet.

Sakurai: True. We did a lot of stuff on YouTube even before we debuted, huh?

Matsumoto: A lot of our early activities were broadcast online, and I’m glad to say a lot of our work still happens on the Internet. This is where we really get to connect with both our fans and our non-fans. This is where we get to hear opinions and respond to them. I don’t want to change that aspect of our job.

Ninomiya: Right from the mouth of our producer.

All: (laughter)

Aiba: A lot of people have been worried about this, haven’t they?

Ohno: Yeah. That we’ll stop uploading videos or close down our Twitter and such.

Sakurai: Honestly, I think we’ll stay on the Internet as long as we’re a group.

Aiba: So the question is: how long will we stay as a group?

Sakurai: Are you asking for an age limit? We’re almost 40, right, so…

Ohno: I’m hoping I can do this till I’m 80.

Sakurai: Ojisan idol to **ojiisan** idol?

All: (laughter)

Ohno: I’m serious, though.

Ninomiya: So I guess the answer is—as long as our supporters will have us?

Aiba/Matsumoto/Ohno/Sakurai: (nodding) Yeah…

Sakurai: To be honest, it’s like a dream, for me. This whole idol thing. Perhaps for you guys as well, but more so for me. You know our fans call me ‘The Accidental Member’?

Aiba: Right, they turned that into a meme on your birthday!

Ninomiya: Those four-panel comics, right?

Aiba: Yeah!

Sakurai: And that title is perfectly apt! It’s like a dream that I stumbled into, and I don’t ever want to wake up.

Ohno: I understand. I got a second chance at this. I don’t want to let it go. 

Matsumoto: Mm. Let’s dream together then.

_**If Akatsuki ever were to fail, what would be the reasons and why?** _

Aiba: Sorry for asking such a heavy question.

Ohno: I’m surprised it came from you.

All: (thinking)

Ninomiya: Hm. If we ever fight, that’s it. We’re done.

Matsumoto: Seriously? You’re saying that right after our first anniversary?

Aiba: Yeah, what if we fight right after this interview?

Ninomiya: (laughs) I know it’s a grand thing to say, but that’s how much I think we trust each other to keep the balance.

Sakurai: I feel the same way. And if we talk about the why, I think it’s because we marinated in society for so long—I mean, I was a journalist for 15 years—that we approached the industry with a very different attitude than your average idol neophyte. We’re more weathered, more understanding of people, because we’ve had the advantage of time.

Matsumoto: Do you wish we had the advantage of youth?

Sakurai: (laughs) Sometimes. Seven, eight years ago I could still function fairly normally on two hours of sleep a day.

Ohno: Ah, those days. Back when we had superpowers.

All: (laughter)

Matsumoto: I think I feel the same, though. Among the five of us—there’s no drama, no baggage. Work is work, and it’s work we enjoy unadulteratedly. We don’t let anything else hinder it, when it’s just the five of us. And the staff, of course.

Sakurai: Yeah. Work is our happy place.

Ohno: I think if we were younger, like 16, 17, maybe even our early twenties, we might think differently. But we’re almost 40…

Ninomiya: We’re just taking things in our stride.

Ohno: Exactly. Going with the flow. (laughs)

Aiba: So… we won’t fail because we’re old?

Ninomiya: **You’re** old.

_**What are your hopes for the group in the upcoming year?** _

Sakurai: I’m guessing this is from Ohno-kun?

Ohno: Am I really that easy to read?

Ninomiya: We can tell from the lack of effort put into the question.

Ohno: I did try to make a good question! What are you talking about?!

Ninomiya: (laughs) My hopes for the group in the upcoming year is that we stay the same!

Matsumoto: Sounds like you aren’t setting the bar very high.

Ninomiya: We’ve been setting our sights high right from the beginning, Jun-kun.

Matsumoto: (laughs) Ah, so that’s what you mean.

Ohno: For me, I’m hoping next year we can enjoy our work even more.

Aiba: You’re not enjoying your work now?

Ohno: I am, it’s just—it has to be more fun than this. (laughs)

Matsumoto: (laughs) I think we’re going full speed ahead. I like it; I hope we can keep it up, but it’s scary. Don’t you guys ever feel that way?

Sakurai: I do. We got our big break right from the start, and I sometimes worry if this is all luck. If we’re truly liked, or if it’s just that our novelty hasn’t worn off.

Aiba: It’s a little bit of everything, isn’t it? I mean, I think we got really lucky that it was these five people; we got along right from the beginning. I hope that we’ll continue this relationship in our second year and all the years to come. That’s my greatest wish.

Sakurai: That’s a beautiful answer, Aiba-kun! (claps)

Ohno: See, it was a good question.

**_We’ve only spent a year together, but we’ve had a lot of fond memories. Please share one with us._ **

Matsumoto: Nino, this is a total fan question.

Ninomiya: Somebody’s gotta ask something they want to know, don’t you think?

Sakurai: It’s a tough one…

Ohno: I’ve got it.

Sakurai: You’re fast! That’s rare!

Ohno: For me, it was the concert.

Aiba: I was going to say that!!!

Ohno: That’s why I wanted to go first. (laughs)

Ninomiya: You guys and your shortcuts. So underhand.

Ohno: I really enjoy the moment before we step on stage. Just before the very first song, before the audience sees us. There’s this anticipation, and as we stand there the feeling of all of us heading for the same goal, the goal of making people happy—that connection is really strong. That’s my favourite experience with you guys.

Sakurai: Yeah. Trying to stage the best show for our audience and performing our hearts out, that was really enjoyable.

Aiba: All right! All right! (raises hand) Can I go next?

Ninomiya: You’re not allowed to have the same answer as Ohno-san.

Aiba: What if I’m really specific? What if I say it’s the end of the first day of the concert?

Ninomiya: I suppose that’s fine.

Sakurai: Aiba-kun, that **is** specific. (laughs)

Aiba: I like it when we’re on stage, and we give our speeches to the audience, and I listen to all of you and think how lucky I am to be in this group, how it’s practically destiny that we managed to meet. It hit me hard, that first day.

Ninomiya: You were snivelling all over the place.

Sakurai: And we were like, “It’s just the first day! What are you crying for? Cry on the last day!”

Aiba: (laughs) Yeah, but I can’t help it. See, on the last day there’s a weird loneliness, like, “Ah, it’s over…” I’m not a big fan of that feeling. That’s why I like the first day. It’s very fulfilling.

Matsumoto: I get it. In a way, mine is similar to yours. When we were at boot camp we stayed up really, really late to talk about the group. That first week, remember?

Sakurai: Yeah, we were just sitting on our futons in that tiny tatami room…

Matsumoto: I remember thinking, we’re definitely going in a good direction, and it’s all because everyone wants the same thing.

Ninomiya: Well, mine sounds odd compared to yours. It was when Sho-chan went to Rio for the Paralympics, and the four of us were swamped with work.

Sakurai: Wait, so I’m not part of that memory?!

Ninomiya: You are, you are. You made it happen, after all. It was a combination of many things, but in sum, it was the first time after we became a group that we had to cover for anyone, and that made me think how we really do our best to support each other, and having it at the back of our minds that one of us is working hard somewhere else and we can’t lose to him.

Aiba: Yeah, I get what you’re saying. In a sense we’re also each other’s rivals.

Ninomiya: Right. And it also made me think about how interesting this job is. Covering for your bandmate is not the same as exchanging shifts with your co-worker. There’s so much more involved.

Matsumoto: It’s a lot more intricate, right?

Ninomiya: Yeah. Strategising what to do, how to schedule it and stuff like that—that was really fun. Super tiring, but really fun.

Ohno: Nino’s surprisingly an M!

All: (laughter)

Sakurai: For me, it was joining you guys during the debut press conference.

Aiba/Matsumoto/Ninomiya/Ohno: Yes!

Aiba: We were in the waiting room, nervous, making sure we knew what to say, when Sho-chan popped his head in… I just froze!

Ninomiya: I remember asking: “You’re not here as part of the press, right?”

Sakurai: (laughs) I’ll never forget that day. The way Satoshi-kun rushed towards me and hugged me. It was the first time I said out loud: “I’m an idol now!” I hope I’ll always be.

Ohno: Yes! Together! Until we’re 80!

All: (laughter)


End file.
